THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


LIN  MCLEAN 


LIN     Me  L  E  A  N 


BY 

OWEN   WISTER 

AUTHOR  OF   '*  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE  " 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    YORK   AND   LONDON 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

1901 


Copyright,  1897,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

All  rights    reserved. 


•„'• 


GIFT 


WZ/7 


BeDfcation 

MY  DEAR  HARRY  MERCER  :  When  Lin  McLean  was  only  a 
hero  in  manuscript,  he  received  his  first  welcome  and  chastening 
beneath  your  patient  roof.  By  none  so  much  as  by  you  has  he 
in  private  been  helped  and  affectionately  disciplined,  and  now 
you  must  stand  godfather  to  him  upon  this  public  page. 

Always  yours, 

OWEN  WISTER. 

Philadelphia,  1897. 


243 


CONTENTS 


PACK 

How  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST   .    *    ......  i 

THE  WINNING  OF  THE  BISCUIT-SHOOTER 38 

LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEYMOON      .........  74 

A  JOURNEY  IN  SEARCH  OF  CHRISTMAS 104 

SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE J48 

DESTINY  AT  DRYBONE 2I7 

IN  THE  AFTER-DAYS 278 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


LIN   McLEAN Frontispiece 

A    WOLF-DANCE   AT    FORT   WASHAKIE   ....  Facing  page        8 
"AROUND     THE     DOUBLINGS      OF     THE     CREEK 

THE  WILLOW  THICKETS    GLIMMERED"  ...         "         "  46 

"'LAW?'     SAID     THE     GOVERNOR,     'LOOK     AT 

THAT   PLACE  !'" 80 

"'THE     MOUNTAINS?    .    .    .    WHY,      WE*LL      GO 

THERE  !'" 144 

"IN  SPACE  ETERNAL" 156 

"AT  OUR  NEXT  CHANGE  OF  HORSES  "   ...      "  1 82 

"DOWN  BOX  ELDER'S  COURSE" "      "      228 


HOW  LIN   McLEAN  WENT   EAST 

IN  the  old  days,  the  happy  days,  when  Wyo- 
ming was  a  Territory  with  a  future  instead  of  a 
State  with  a  past,  and  the  unfenced  cattle  grazed 
upon  her  ranges  by  prosperous  thousands,  young 
Lin  McLean  awaked  early  one  morning  in  cow 
camp,  and  lay  staring  out  of  his  blankets  upon 
the  world.  He  would  be  twenty-two  this  week. 
He  was  the  youngest  cow-puncher  in  camp.  But 
because  he  could  break  wild  horses,  he  was  earn- 
ing more  dollars  a  month  than  any  man  there, 
except  one.  The  cook  was  a  more  indispensable 
person.  None  save  the  cook  was  up,  so  far,  this 
morning.  Lin's  brother  punchers  slept  about 
him  on  the  ground,  some  motionless,  some  shift- 
ing their  prone  heads  to  burrow  deeper  from  the 
increasing  day.  The  busy  work  of  spring  was 
over,  that  of  the  fall,  or  beef  round-up,  not  yet 
come.  It  was  mid-July,  a  lull  for  these  hard-rid- 
ing bachelors  of  the  saddle,  and  many  unspent 
dollars  stood  to  Mr.  McLean's  credit  on  the  ranch 
books. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  some  variety  ?"  mut- 
tered the  boy  in  his  blankets. 

The  long  range  of  the  mountains  lifted  clear 
in  the  air.  They  slanted  from  the  purple  folds 
and  furrows  of  the  pines  that  richly  cloaked  them, 


^ '    ::,.;:•  V  *v       LIN  MCLEAN 

upward  into  rock  and  grassy  bareness  until  they 
broke  remotely  into  bright  peaks,  and  filmed  into 
the  distant  lavender  of  the  north  and  the  south. 
On  their  western  side  the  streams  ran  into  Snake 
or  into  Green  River,  and  so  at  length  met  the 
Pacific.  On  this  side,  Wind  River  flowed  forth 
from  them,  descending  out  of  the  Lake  of  the 
Painted  Meadows.  A  mere  trout-brook  it  was 
up  there  at  the  top  of  the  divide,  with  easy  rif- 
fles and  stepping  -  stones  in  many  places  ;  but 
down  here,  outside  the  mountains,  it  was  become 
a  streaming  avenue,  a  broadening  course,  impet- 
uous between  its  two  tall  green  walls  of  cotton- 
wood-trees.  And  so  it  wound  away  like  a  vast 
green  ribbon  across  the  lilac-gray  sage-brush  and 
the  yellow,  vanishing  plains. 

"Variety,  you  bet !"  young  Lin  repeated,  aloud. 

He  unrolled  himself  from  his  bed,  and  brought 
from  the  garments  that  made  his  pillow  a  few 
toilet  articles.  He  got  on  his  long  boy  legs  and 
limped  blithely  to  the  margin.  In  the  mornings 
his  slight  lameness  was  always  more  visible.  The 
camp  was  at  Bull  Lake  Crossing,  where  the  fork 
from  Bull  Lake  joins  Wind  River.  Here  Lin 
found  some  convenient  shingle-stones,  with  dark, 
deepish  water  against  them,  where  he  plunged 
his  face  and  energetically  washed,  and  came  up 
with  the  short  curly  hair  shining  upon  his  round 
head.  After  enough  looks  at  himself  in  the  dark 
water,  and  having  knotted  a  clean,  jaunty  hand- 
kerchief at  his  throat,  he  returned  with  his  slight 
limp  to  camp,  where  they  were  just  sitting  at 
breakfast  to  the  rear  of  the  cook -shelf  of  the 
wagon. 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  3 

"  Bugged  up  to  kill !"  exclaimed  one,  perceiving 
Lin's  careful  dress. 

"  He  sure  has  not  shaved  again  ?"  another  in- 
quired, with  concern. 

"  I  'ain't  got  my  opera-glasses  on,"  answered  a 
third. 

"  He  has  spared  that  pansy-blossom  mustache," 
said  a  fourth. 

"  My  spring  crop,"  remarked  young  Lin,  round- 
ing on  this  last  one,  "has  juicier  prospects  than 
that  rat-eaten  catastrophe  of  last  year's  hay  which 
wanders  out  of  your  face." 

"  Why,  you'll  soon  be  talking  yourself  into  a 
regular  man,"  said  the  other. 

But  the  camp  laugh  remained  on  the  side  of 
young  Lin  till  breakfast  was  ended,  when  the 
ranch  foreman  rode  into  camp. 

Him  Lin  McLean  at  once  addressed.  "  I  was 
wantin'  to  speak  to  you,"  said  he. 

The  experienced  foreman  noticed  the  boy's 
holiday  appearance.  "  I  understand  you're  tired 
of  work,"  he  remarked. 

"  Who  told  you  ?"  asked  the  bewildered  Lin. 

The  foreman  touched  the  boy's  pretty  handker- 
chief. "Well,  I  have  a  way  of  taking  things  in 
at  a  glance,"  said  he.  "  That's  why  I'm  foreman, 
I  expect.  So  you've  had  enough  work  ?" 

"  My  system's  full  of  it,"  replied  Lin,  grinning. 
As  the  foreman  stood  thinking,  he  added,  "  And 
I'd  like  my  time." 

Time,  in  the  cattle  idiom,  meant  back-pay  up 
to  date. 

"It's  good  we're  not  busy,"  said  the  fore- 
man. 


4  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Meanin'  I'd  quit  all  the  same  ?"  inquired  Lin, 
rapidly,  flushing. 

"  No — not  meaning  any  offence.  Catch  up  your 
horse.  I  want  to  make  the  post  before  it  gets 
hot." 

The  foreman  had  come  down  the  river  from  the 
ranch  at  Meadow  Creek,  and  the  post,  his  goal, 
was  Fort  Washakie.  All  this  part  of  the  country 
formed  the  Shoshone  Indian  Reservation,  where, 
by  permission,  pastured  the  herds  whose  owner 
would  pay  Lin  his  time  at  Washakie.  So  the 
young  cow-puncher  flung  on  his  saddle  and 
mounted. 

"  So-long !"  he  remarked  to  the  camp,  by  way 
of  farewell.  He  might  never  be  going  to  see  any 
of  them  again  ;  but  the  cow-punchers  were  not 
demonstrative  by  habit. 

"  Going  to  stop  long  at  Washakie  ?"  asked  one. 

"  Alma  is  not  waiter-girl  at  the  hotel  now,"  an- 
other mentioned. 

"  If  there's  a  new  girl,"  said  a  third,  "  kiss  her 
one  for  me,  and  tell  her  I'm  handsomer  than 
you." 

"  I  ain't  a  deceiver  of  women,"  said  Lin. 

"  That's  why  you'll  tell  her,"  replied  his  friend. 

"  Say,  Lin,  why  are  you  quittin'  us  so  sudden, 
anyway  ?"  asked  the  cook,  grieved  to  lose  him. 

"  I'm  after  some  variety,"  said  the  boy. 

"  If  you  pick  up  more  than  you  can  use,  just 
can  a  little  of  it  for  me  !"  shouted  the  cook  at 
the  departing  McLean. 

This  was  the  last  of  camp  by  Bull  Lake  Cross- 
ing, and  in  the  foreman's  company  young  Lin 
now  took  the  road  for  his  accumulated  dollars. 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  5 

"  So  you're  leaving  your  bedding  and  stuff  with 
the  outfit  ?"  said  the  foreman. 

"  Brought  my  tooth-brush,"  said  Lin,  showing 
it  in  the  breast-pocket  of  his  flannel  shirt. 

"  Going  to  Denver  ?" 

"Why,  maybe." 

"  Take  in  San  Francisco  ?" 

"  Sounds  slick." 

"  Made  any  plans  ?" 

"  Gosh,  no  !" 

"  Don't  want  anything  on  your  brain  ?" 

"Nothin'  except  my  hat,  I  guess,"  said  Lin, 
and  broke  into  cheerful  song  : 

"  ''Twas  a  nasty  baby  anyhow, 

And  it  only  died  to  spite  us  ; 
'Twas  afflicted  with  the  cerebrow 
Spinal  meningitus  !' " 

They  wound  up  out  of  the  magic  valley  of 
Wind  River,  through  the  bastioned  gullies  and 
the  gnome-like  mystery  of  dry  water-courses,  up- 
ward and  up  to  the  level  of  the  huge  sage-brush 
plain  above.  Behind  lay  the  deep  valley  they 
had  climbed  from,  mighty,  expanding,  its  trees 
like  bushes,  its  cattle  like  pebbles,  its  opposite 
side  towering  also  to  the  edge  of  this  upper  plain. 
There  it  lay,  another  world.  One  step  farther 
away  from  its  rim,  and  the  two  edges  of  the  plain 
had  flowed  together  over  it  like  a  closing  sea', 
covering  without  a  sign  or  ripple  the  great  coun- 
try which  lay  sunk  beneath. 

"A  man  might  think  he'd  dreamed  he'd  saw 
that  place,"  said  Lin  to  the  foreman,  and  wheeled 
his  horse  to  the  edge  again.  "  She's  sure  there, 


6  LIN  MCLEAN 

though,"  he  added,  gazing  down.  For  a  moment 
his  boy  face  grew  thoughtful.  "  Shucks  !"  said 
he  then,  abruptly,  "where's  any  joy  in  money 
that's  comin'  till  it  arrives  ?  I  have  most  forgot 
the  feel  o'  spot-cash." 

He  turned  his  horse  away  from  the  far-wind- 
ing vision  of  the  river,  and  took  a  sharp  jog 
after  the  foreman,  who  had  not  been  waiting  for 
him.  Thus  they  crossed  the  eighteen  miles  of 
high  plain,  and  came  down  to  Fort  Washakie,  in 
the  valley  of  Little  Wind,  before  the  day  was  hot. 

His  roll  of  wages  once  jammed  in  his  pocket 
like  an  old  handkerchief,  young  Lin  precipitated 
himself  out  of  the  post-trader's  store  and  away 
on  his  horse  up  the  stream  among  the  Shoshone 
tepees  to  an  unexpected  entertainment — a  wolf- 
dance.  He  had  meant  to  go  and  see  what  the 
new  waiter-girl  at  the  hotel  looked  like,  but  put 
this  off  promptly  to  attend  the  dance.  This 
hospitality  the  Shoshone  Indians  were  extending 
to  some  visiting  Ute  friends,  and  the  neighbor- 
hood was  assembled  to  watch  the  ring  of  painted 
naked  savages. 

The  post -trader  looked  after  the  galloping 
Lin.  "  What's  he  quitting  his  job  for  ?"  he  asked 
the  foreman. 

"  Same  as  most  of  'em  quit." 

"  Nothing  ?" 

"  Nothing." 

"  Been  satisfactory  ?" 

"Never  had  a  boy  more  so.  Good-hearted, 
willing,  a  plumb  dare-devil  with  a  horse." 

"And  worthless,"  suggested  the  post-trader. 

"  Well — not  yet.     He's  headed  that  way." 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  7 

"  Been  punching  cattle  long  ?" 

"  Came  in  the  country  about  seventy-eight,  I 
believe,  and  rode  for  the  Bordeaux  Outfit  most  a 
year,  and  quit.  Blew  in  at  Cheyenne  till  he  went 
broke,  and  worked  over  on  to  the  Platte.  Rode 
for  the  C.  Y.  Outfit  most  a  year,  and  quit.  Blew 
in  at  Buffalo.  Rode  for  Balaam  awhile  on  Butte 
Creek.  Broke  his  leg.  Went  to  the  Drybone 
Hospital,  and  when  the  fracture  was  commenc- 
ing to  knit  pretty  good  he  broke  it  again  at  the 
hog-ranch  across  the  bridge.  Next  time  you're  in 
Cheyenne  get  Dr.  Barker  to  tell  you  about  that. 
McLean  drifted  to  Green  River  last  year  and 
went  up  over  on  to  Snake,  and  up  Snake,  and 
was  around  with  a  prospecting  outfit  on  Galena 
Creek  by  Pitchstone  Canon.  Seems  he  got  inter- 
ested in  some  Dutchwoman  up  there,  but  she 
had  trouble — died,  I  think  they  said — and  he 
came  down  by  Meteetsee  to  Wind  River.  He's 
liable  to  go  to  Mexico  or  Africa  next." 

"  If  you  need  him,"  said  the  post-trader,  clos- 
ing his  ledger,  "you  can  offer  him  five  more  a 
month." 

"  That  '11  not  hold  him." 

"  Well,  let  him  go.  Have  a  cigar.  The  bishop 
is  expected  for  Sunday,  and  I've  got  to  see  his 
room  is  fixed  up  for  him." 

"  The  bishop  !"  said  the  foreman.  "  I've  heard 
him  highly  spoken  of." 

"You  can  hear  him  preach  to-morrow.  The 
bishop  is  a  good  man." 

"  He's  better  than  that ;  he's  a  man,"  stated 
the  foreman — "  at  least,  so  they  tell  me." 

Now,  saving  an  Indian  dance,  scarce  any  possi- 


8-  LIN  MCLEAN 

ble  event  at  the  Shoshone  agency  could  assemble 
in  one  spot  so  many  sorts  of  inhabitants  as  a 
visit  from  this  bishop.  Inhabitants  of  four  colors 
gathered  to  view  the  wolf-dance  this  afternoon — 
red  men,  white  men,  black  men,  yellow  men. 
Next  day,  three  sorts  came  to  church  at  the 
agency.  The  Chinese  laundry  was  absent.  But 
because,  indeed  (as  the  foreman  said),  the  bishop 
was  not  only  a  good  man  but  a  man,  Wyoming 
held  him  in  respect  and  went  to  look  at  him. 
He  stood  in  the  agency  church  and  held  the 
Episcopal  service  this  Sunday  morning  for  some 
brightly  glittering  army  officers  and  their  fam- 
ilies, some  white  cavalry,  and  some  black  infan- 
try ;  the  agency  doctor,  the  post-trader,  his  fore- 
man, the  government  scout,  three  gamblers,  the 
waiter-girl  from  the  hotel,  the  stage-driver,  who 
was  there  because  she  was  ;  old  Chief  Washakie, 
white  -  haired  and  royal  in  blankets,  with  two 
royal  Utes  splendid  beside  him;  one  benchful  of 
squatting  Indian  children,  silent  and  marvelling  ; 
and,  on  the  back  bench,  the  commanding  officer's 
new  hired-girl,  and,  beside  her,  Lin  McLean. 

Mr.  McLean's  hours  were  already  various  and 
successful.  Even  at  the  wolf  -  dance,  before  he 
had  wearied  of  its  monotonous  drumming  and 
pageant,  his  roving  eye  had  rested  upon  a  girl 
whose  eyes  he  caught  resting  upon  him.  A  look, 
an  approach,  a  word,  and  each  was  soon  content 
with  the  other.  Then,  when  her  duties  called  her 
to  the  post  from  him  and  the  stream's  border, 
with  a  promise  for  next  day  he  sought  the  hotel 
and  found  the  three  gamblers  anxious  to  make 
his  acquaintance ;  for  when  a  cow-puncher  has 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  9 

his  pay  many  people  will  take  an  interest  in  him. 
The  three  gamblers  did  not  know  that  Mr.  Mc- 
Lean could  play  cards.  He  left  them  late  in  the 
evening  fat  with  their  money,  and  sought  the 
tepees  of  the  Arapahoes.  They  lived  across  the 
road  from  the  Shoshones,  and  among  their  tents 
the  boy  remained  until  morning.  He  was  here 
in  church  now,  keeping  his  promise  to  see  the 
bishop  with  the  girl  of  yesterday  ;  and  while  he 
gravely  looked  at  the  bishop,  Miss  Sabina  Stone 
allowed  his  arm  to  encircle  her  waist.  No  soldier 
had  achieved  this  yet,  but  Lin  was  the  first  cow- 
puncher  she  had  seen,  and  he  had  given  her  the 
handkerchief  from  round  his  neck. 

The  quiet  air  blew  in  through  the  windows  and 
door,  the  pure,  light  breath  from  the  mountains  ; 
only,  passing  over  their  foot-hills  it  had  caught  and 
carried  the  clear  aroma  of  the  sage-brush.  This 
it  brought  into  church,  and  with  this  seemed  also 
to  float  the  peace  and  great  silence  of  the  plains. 
The  little  melodeon  in  the  corner,  played  by  one 
of  the  ladies  at  the  post,  had  finished  accompany- 
ing the  hymn,  and  now  it  prolonged  a  few  clos- 
ing chords  while  the  bishop  paused  before  his  ad- 
dress, resting  his  keen  eyes  on  the  people.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  plain  suit  of  black  with  a  narrow 
black  tie.  This  was  because  the  Union  Pacific 
Railroad,  while  it  had  delivered  him  correctly  at 
Green  River,  had  despatched  his  robes  towards 
Cheyenne. 

Without  citing  chapter  and  verse  the  bishop 
began : 

"  And  he  arose,  and  came  to  his  father.  But 
when  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his  father  saw 


io  LIN  MCLEAN 

him,  and  had  compassion,  and  ran,  and  fell  on  his 
neck  and  kissed  him." 

The  bishop  told  the  story  of  that  surpassing 
parable,  and  then  proceeded  to  draw  from  it  a 
discourse  fitted  to  the  drifting  destinies  in  whose 
presence  he  found  himself  for  one  solitary  morn- 
ing. He  spoke  unlike  many  clergymen.  His 
words  were  chiefly  those  which  the  people  round 
him  used,  and  his  voice  was  more  like  earnest 
talking  than  preaching. 

Miss  Sabina  Stone  felt  the  arm  of  her  cow- 
puncher  loosen  slightly,  and  she  looked  at  him. 
But  he  was  looking  at  the  bishop,  no  longer 
gravely  but  with  wide-open  eyes,  alert.  When 
the  narrative  reached  the  elder  brother  in  the 
field,  and  how  he  came  to  the  house  and  heard 
sounds  of  music  and  dancing,  Miss  Stone  drew 
away  from  her  companion  and  let  him  watch  the 
bishop,  since  he  seemed  to  prefer  that.  She  took 
to  reading  hymns  vindictively.  The  bishop  him- 
self noted  the  sun-browned  boy  face  and  the 
wide-open  eyes.  He  was  too  far  away  to  see  any- 
thing but  the  alert,  listening  position  of  the 
young  cow-puncher.  He  could  not  discern  how 
that,  after  he  had  left  the  music  and  dancing  and 
begun  to  draw  morals,  attention  faded  from 
those  eyes  that  seemed  to  watch  him,  and  they 
filled  with  dreaminess.  It  was  very  hot  in  church. 
Chief  Washakie  went  to  sleep,  and  so  did  a  cor- 
poral; but  Lin  McLean  sat  in  the  same  alert  posi- 
tion till  Miss  Stone  pulled  him  and  asked  if  he 
intended  to  sit  down  through  the  hymn.  Then 
church  was  out.  Officers,  Indians,  and  all  the 
people  dispersed  through  the  great  sunshine  to 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  n 

their  dwellings,  and  the  cow-puncher  rode  beside 
Sabina  in  silence. 

"  What  are  you  studying  over,  Mr.  McLean  ?" 
inquired  the  lady,  after  a  hundred  yards. 

"  Did  you  ever  taste  steamed  Duxbury  clams  ?" 
asked  Lin,  absently. 

"  No,  indeed.     What's  them  ?" 

"  Oh,  just  clams.  Yu'  have  drawn  butter,  too." 
Mr.  McLean  fell  silent  again. 

"  I  guess  I'll  be  late  for  settin'  the  colonel's  ta- 
ble. Good-bye,"  said  Sabina,  quickly,  and  swished 
her  whip  across  the  pony,  who  scampered  away 
with  her  along  the  straight  road  across  the  plain 
to  the  post. 

Lin  caught  up  with  her  at  once  and  made  his 
peace. 

"  Only,"  protested  Sabina,  "  I  ain't  used  to  gen- 
tlemen taking  me  out  and — well,  same  as  if  I  was 
a  collie-dog.  Maybe  it's  Wind  River  politeness." 

But  she  went  riding  with  him  up  Trout  Creek 
in  the  cool  of  the  afternoon.  Out  of  the  Indian 
tepees,  scattered  wide  among  the  flat  levels  of 
sage-brush,  smoke  rose  thin  and  gentle,  and  van- 
ished. They  splashed  across  the  many  little  run- 
ning channels  which  lead  water  through  that 
thirsty  soil,  and  though  the  range  of  mountains 
came  no  nearer,  behind  them  the  post,  with  its 
white,  flat  buildings  and  green  trees,  dwindled  to 
a  toy  village. 

"  My  !  but  it's  far  to  everywheres  here,"  ex- 
claimed Sabina,  "  and  it's  little  you're  sayin'  for 
yourself  to-day,  Mr.  McLean.  I'll  have  to  do  the 
talking.  What's  that  thing  now,  where  the  rocks 
are?" 


12  LIN  MCLEAN 

"That's  Little  Wind  River  Canon,"  said  the 
young  man.  "  Feel  like  goin'  there,  Miss  Stone  ?" 

"Why,  yes.  It  looks  real  nice  and  shady  like, 
don't  it?  Let's." 

So  Miss  Stone  turned  her  pony  in  that  direc- 
tion. 

"When  do  your  folks  eat  supper?"  inquired 
Lin. 

"  Half -past  six.  Oh,  we've  lots  of  time!  Come 
on." 

"  How  many  miles  per  hour  do  you  figure  that 
cayuse  of  yourn  can  travel  ?"  Lin  asked. 

"  What  are  you  a  -  talking  about,  anyway  ? 
You're  that  strange  to-day,"  said  the  lady. 

"Only  if  we  try  to  make  that  canon,  I  guess 
you'll  be  late  settin'  the  colonel's  table,"  Lin  re- 
marked, his  hazel  eyes  smiling  upon  her.  "  That 
is,  if  your  horse  ain't  good  for  twenty  miles  an 
hour.  Mine  ain't,  I  know.  But  111  do  my  best 
to  stay  with  yu'." 

"  You're  the  teasingest  man — "  said  Miss  Stone, 
pouting.  "  I  might  have  knowed  it  was  ever  so 
much  further  nor  it  looked." 

"Well,  I  ain't  sayin'  I  don't  want  to  go,  if  yu' 
was  desirous  of  campin'  out  to-night." 

"Mr.  McLean!  Indeed,  and  I'd  do  no  such 
thing!"  and  Sabina  giggled. 

A  sage-hen  rose  under  their  horses'  feet,  and 
hurtled  away  heavily  over  the  next  rise  of  ground, 
taking  a  final  wide  sail  out  of  sight. 

"  Something  like  them  partridges  used  to,"  said 
Lin,  musingly. 

"  Partridges  ?"  inquired  Sabina. 

"Used  to  be  in  the  woods  between  Lynn  and 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  13 

Salem.  Maybe  the  woods  are  gone  by  this  time. 
Yes,  they  must  be  gone,  I  guess." 

Presently  they  dismounted  and  sought  the 
stream  bank. 

uWe  had  music  and  dancing  at  Thanksgiv- 
ing and  such  times,"  said  Lin,  his  wiry  length 
stretched  on  the  grass  beside  the  seated  Sabina. 
He  was  not  looking  at  her,  but  she  took  a  pleasure 
in  watching  him,  his  curly  head  and  bronze  face, 
against  which  the  young  mustache  showed  to  its 
full  advantage. 

"  I  expect  you  used  to  dance  a  lot,"  remarked 
Sabina,  for  a  subject. 

"  Yes.     Do  yu'  know  the  Portland  Fancy  ?" 

Sabina  did  not,  and  her  subject  died  away. 

"  Did  anybody  ever  tell  you  you  had  good  eyes  ?" 
she  inquired  next. 

"  Why,  sure,"  said  Lin,  waking  for  a  moment ; 
"but  I  like  your  color  best.  A  girl's  eyes  will 
mostly  beat  a  man's." 

"  Indeed,  I  don't  think  so  !"  exclaimed  poor 
Sabina,  too  much  expectant  to  perceive  the  fatal 
note  of  routine  with  which  her  transient  admirer 
pronounced  this  gallantry.  He  informed  her  that 
hers  were  like  the  sea,  and  she  told  him  she  had 
not  yet  looked  upon  the  sea. 

"  Never  ?"  said  he.  "  It's  a  turruble  pity  you've 
never  saw  salt  water.  It's  different  from  fresh. 
All  around  home  it's  blue — awful  blue  in  July — 
around  Swampscott  and  Marblehead  and  Nahant, 
and  around  the  islands.  I've  swam  there  lots. 
Then  our  home  bruck  up  and  we  went  to  board 
in  Boston."  He  snapped  off  a  flower  in  reach  of 
his  long  arm.  Suddenly  all  dreaminess  left  him. 


14  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  I  wonder  if  you'll  be  settin'  the  colonel's  table 
when  I  come  back  ?"  he  said. 

Miss  Stone  was  at  a  loss. 

"  I'm  goin'  East  to-morrow — East,  to  Boston." 

Yesterday  he  had  told  her  that  sixteen  miles  to 
Lander  was  the  farthest  journey  from  the  post 
that  he  intended  to  make — the  farthest  from  the 
post  and  her. 

"I  hope  nothing  'ain't  happened  to  your  folks?" 
said  she. 

"  I  'ain't  got  no  folks,"  replied  Lin,  "  barring  a 
brother.  I  expect  he  is  taking  good  care  of  him- 
self." 

"  Don't  you  correspond  ?" 

"  Well,  I  guess  he  would  if  there  was  anything 
to  say.  There  'ain't  been  nothin'." 

Sabina  thought  they  must  have  quarrelled,  but 
learned  that  they  had  not.  It  was  time  for  her 
now  to  return  and  set  the  colonel's  table,  so  Lin 
rose  and  went  to  bring  her  horse.  When  he  had 
put  her  in  her  saddle  she  noticed  him  step  to  his 
own. 

"Why,  I  didn't  know  you  were  lame!"  cried 
she. 

"  Shucks !"  said  Lin.  "  It  don't  cramp  my 
style  any."  He  had  sprung  on  his  horse,  ridden 
beside  her,  leaned  and  kissed  her  before  she  got 
any  measure  of  his  activity. 

"  That's  how,"  said  he  ;  and  they  took  their 
homeward  way  galloping.  "  No,"  Lin  continued, 
"  Frank  and  me  never  quarrelled.  I  just  thought 
I'd  have  a  look  at  this  Western  country.  Frank, 
he  thought  dry-goods  was  good  enough  for  him, 
and  so  we're  both  satisfied,  I  expect.  And  that's 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  15 

a  lot  of  years  now.  Whoop  ya  !"  he  suddenly 
sang  out,  and  fired  his  six-shooter  at  a  jack-rab- 
bit, who  strung  himself  out  flat  and  flew  over  the 
earth. 

Both  dismounted  at  the  parade-ground  gate, 
and  he  kissed  her  again  when  she  was  not  looking, 
upon  which  she  very  properly  slapped  him  ;  and 
he  took  the  horses  to  the  stable.  He  sat  down  to 
tea  at  the  hotel,  and  found  the  meal  consisted  of 
black  potatoes,  gray  tea,  and  a  guttering  dish  of 
fat  pork.  But  his  appetite  was  good,  and  he  re- 
marked to  himself  that  inside  the  first  hour  he 
was  in  Boston  he  would  have  steamed  Duxbury 
clams.  Of  Sabina  he  never  thought  again,  and 
it  is  likely  that  she  found  others  to  take  his  place. 
Fort  Washakie  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  the  railway,  and  men  there  were  many  and 
girls  were  few. 

The  next  morning  the  other  passengers  entered 
the  stage  with  resignation,  knowing  the  thirty-six 
hours  of  evil  that  lay  before  them.  Lin  climbed 
up  beside  the  driver.  He  had  a  new  trunk  now. 

"  Don't  get  full,  Lin,"  said  the  clerk,  putting  the 
mail-sacks  in  at  the  store. 

"My  plans  ain't  settled  that  far  yet,"  replied 
Mr.  McLean. 

"  Leave  it  out  of  them,"  said  the  voice  of  the 
bishop,  laughing,  inside  the  stage. 

It  was  a  cool,  fine  air.  Gazing  over  the  huge 
plain  down  in  which  lies  Fort  Washakie,  Lin 
heard  the  faint  notes  of  the  trumpet  on  the  parade- 
ground,  and  took  a  good-bye  look  at  all  things. 
He  watched  the  American  flag  grow  small,  saw 
the  circle  of  steam  rising  away  down  by  the  hot 


1 6  LIN  MCLEAN 

springs,  looked  at  the  bad  lands  beyond,  chemi- 
cally pink  and  rose  amid  the  vast,  natural,  quiet- 
colored  plain.  Across  the  spreading  distance  Ind- 
ians trotted  at  wide  spaces,  generally  two  large 
bucks  on  one  small  pony,  or  a  squaw  and  pap- 
poose — a  bundle  of  parti-colored  rags.  Presiding 
over  the  whole  rose  the  mountains  to  the  west, 
serene,  lifting  into  the  clearest  light.  Then  once 
again  came  the  now  tiny  music  of  the  trumpet. 

"When  do  yu'  figure  on  comin'  back?"  inquired 
the  driver. 

"Oh,  I'll  just  look  around  back  there  for  a 
spell,"  said  Lin.  "About  a  month,  I  guess." 

He  had  seven  hundred  dollars.  At  Lander  the 
horses  are  changed ;  and  during  this  operation 
Lin's  friends  gathered  and  said,  where  was  any 
sense  in  going  to  Boston  when  you  could  have  a 
good  time  where  you  were?  But  Lin  remained 
sitting  safe  on  the  stage.  Toward  evening,  at 
the  bottom  of  a  little  dry  gulch  some  eight  feet 
deep,  the  horses  decided  it  was  a  suitable  place  to 
stay.  It  was  the  bishop  who  persuaded  them  to 
change  their  minds.  He  told  the  driver  to  give 
up  beating,  and  unharness.  Then  they  were  led 
up  the  bank,  quivering,  and  a  broken  trace  was 
spliced  with  rope.  Then  the  stage  was  forced  on 
to  the  level  ground,  the  bishop  proving  a  strong 
man,  familiar  with  the  gear  of  vehicles.  They 
crossed  through  the  pass  among  the  quaking 
asps  and  the  pines,  and,  reaching  Pacific  Springs, 
came  down  again  into  open  country.  That  after- 
noon the  stage  put  its  passengers  down  on  the 
railroad  platform  at  Green  River ;  this  was  the 
route  in  those  days  before  the  mid-winter  catas- 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  17 

trophes  of  frozen  passengers  led  to  its  abandon- 
ment. The  bishop  was  going  west.  His  robes 
had  passed  him  on  the  up  stage  during  the  night. 
When  the  reverend  gentleman  heard  this  he  was 
silent  for  a  very  short  moment,  and  then  laughed 
vigorously  in  the  baggage-room. 

"I  can  understand  how  you  swear  sometimes," 
he  said  to  Lin  McLean  ;  "  but  I  can't,  you  see. 
Not  even  at  this." 

The  cow-puncher  was  checking  his  own  trunk 
to  Omaha. 

"Good-bye  and  good  luck  to  you,"  continued 
the  bishop,  giving  his  hand  to  Lin.  "And  look 
here — don't  you  think  you  might  leave  that  *  get- 
ting full '  out  of  your  plans  ?" 

Lin  gave  a  slightly  shamefaced  grin.  "  I  don't 
guess  I  can,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I'm  givin'  yu'  straight 
goods,  yu'  see,"  he  added. 

"That's  right.  But  you  look  like -a  man  who 
could  stop  when  he'd  had  enough.  Try  that. 
You're  man  enough — and  come  and  see  me  when- 
ever we're  in  the  same  place." 

He  went  to  the  hotel.  There  were  several  hours 
for  Lin  to  wait.  He  walked  up  and  down  the 
platform  till  the  stars  came  out  and  the  bright 
lights  of  the  town  shone  in  the  saloon  windows. 
Over  across  the  way  piano-music  sounded  through 
one  of  the  many  open  doors. 

"  Wonder  if  the  professor's  there  yet  ?"  said  Lin, 
and  he  went  across  the  railroad  tracks.  The  bar- 
tender nodded  to  him  as  he  passed  through  into 
the  back  room.  In  that  place  were  many  tables, 
and  the  flat  clicking  and  rattle  of  ivory  count- 
ers sounded  pleasantly  through  the  music.  Lin 


1 8  LIN  MCLEAN 

did  not  join  the  stud-poker  game.  He  stood  over 
a  table  at  which  sat  a  dealer  and  a  player,  very 
silent,  opposite  each  other,  and  whereon  were 
painted  sundry  cards,  numerals,  and  the  colors 
red  and  black  in  squares.  The  legend  "  Jacks 
pay  "  was  also  clearly  painted.  The  player  placed 
chips  on  whichever  insignia  of  fortune  he  chose, 
and  the  dealer  slid  cards  (quite  fairly)  from  the 
top  of  a  pack  that  lay  held  within  a  skeleton  case 
made  with  some  clamped  bands  of  tin.  Some- 
times the  player's  pile  of  chips  rose  high,  and 
sometimes  his  sumptuous  pillar  of  gold  pieces 
was  lessened  by  one.  It  was  very  interesting  and 
pretty  to  see ;  Lin  had  much  better  have  joined 
the  game  of  stud -poker.  Presently  the  eye  of 
the  dealer  met  the  eye  of  the  player.  After  that 
slight  incident  the  player's  chip  pile  began  to 
rise,  and  rose  steadily,  till  the  dealer  made  admir- 
ing comments  on  such  a  run  of  luck.  Then  the 
player  stopped,  cashed  in,  and  said  good-night, 
having  nearly  doubled  the  number  of  his  gold 
pieces. 

"Five  dollars'  worth,"  said  Lin,  sitting  down 
in  the  vacant  seat.  The  chips  were  counted  out 
to  him.  He  played  with  unimportant  shiftings 
of  fortune  until  a  short  while  before  his  train 
was  due,  and  then,  singularly  enough,  he  discov- 
ered he  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  behind 
the  game. 

"I  guess  I'll  leave  the  train  go  without  me," 
said  Lin,  buying  five  dollars'  worth  more  of  ivory 
counters.  So  that  train  came  and  went,  remov- 
ing eastward  Mr.  McLean's  trunk. 

During  the  hour  that  followed  his  voice  grew 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  19 

dogged  and  his  remarks  briefer,  as  he  continually 
purchased  more  chips  from  the  now  surprised 
and  sympathetic  dealer.  It  was  really  wonder- 
ful how  steadily  Lin  lost — just  as  steadily  as  his 
predecessor  had  won  after  that  meeting  of  eyes 
early  in  the  evening. 

When  Lin  was  three  hundred  dollars  out,  his 
voice  began  to  clear  of  its  huskiness  and  a  slight 
humor  revolved  and  sparkled  in  his  eye.  When 
his  seven  hundred  dollars  had  gone  to  safer  hands 
and  he  had  nothing  left  at  all  but  some  silver 
fractions  of  a  dollar,  his  robust  cheerfulness  was 
all  back  again.  He  walked  out  and  stood  among 
the  railroad  tracks  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  laughed  at  himself  in  the  dark.  Then  his 
fingers  came  on  the  check  for  Omaha,  and  he 
laughed  loudly.  The  trunk  by  this  hour  must  be 
nearing  Rawlins ;  it  was  going  east  anyhow. 

"  I'm  following  it,  you  bet,"  he  declared,  kicking 
the  rail.  "  Not  yet  though.  Nor  I'll  not  go  to 
Washakie  to  have  'em  josh  me.  And  yonder  lays 
Boston."  He  stretched  his  arm  and  pointed  east- 
ward. Had  he  seen  another  man  going  on  in 
this  fashion  alone  in  the  dark,  among  side-track- 
ed freight  cars,  he  would  have  pitied  the  poor 
fool.  "  And  I  guess  Boston  '11  have  to  get  along 
without  me  for  a  spell,  too,"  continued  Lin.  "  A 
man  don't  want  to  show  up  plumb  broke  like 
that  younger  son  did  after  eatin'  with  the  hogs 
the  bishop  told  about.  His  father  was  a  jim- 
dandy,  that  hog  chap's.  Hustled  around  and  set 
'em  up  when  he  come  back  home.  Frank,  he'd  say 
to  me  *  How  do  you  do,  brother  ?'  and  he'd  be  wear- 
in'  a  good  suit  o'  clothes  and — no,  sir,  you  bet !" 


20  LIN  MCLEAN 

Lin  now  watched  the  great  headlight  of  a 
freight  train  bearing  slowly  down  into  Green 
River  from  the  wilderness.  Green  River  is  the 
end  of  a  division,  an  epoch  in  every  train's  jour- 
ney. Lanterns  swung  signals,  the  great  dim 
thing  slowed  to  its  standstill  by  the  coal  chute, 
its  locomotive  moved  away  for  a  turn  of  repose, 
the  successor  backed  steaming  to  its  place  to 
tackle  a  night's  work.  Cars  were  shifted,  heav- 
ily bumping  and  parting. 

"  Hello,  Lin  !"  A  face  was  looking  from  the 
window  of  the  caboose. 

"  Hello  !"  responded  Mr.  McLean,  perceiving 
above  his  head  Honey  Wiggin,  a  good  friend  of 
his.  They  had  not  met  for  three  years. 

"  They  claimed  you  got  killed  somewheres.  I 
was  sorry  to  hear  it."  Honey  offered  his  con- 
dolence quite  sincerely. 

"  Bruck  my  leg,"  corrected  Lin,  "  if  that's  what 
they  meant." 

"  I  expect  that's  it,"  said  Honey.  "  You've  had 
no  other  trouble  ?" 

"  Been  boomin',"  said  Lin. 

From  the  mere  undertone  in  their  voices  it 
was  plain  they  were  good  friends,  carefully  hid- 
ing their  pleasure  at  meeting. 

"  Wher're  yu'  bound  ?"  inquired  Honey. 

"  East,"  said  Lin. 

"  Better  jump  in  here,  then.  We're  goin' 
west." 

"  That  just  suits  me,"  said  Lin. 

The  busy  lanterns  wagged  among  the  switches, 
the  steady  lights  of  the  saloons  shone  along  the 
town's  wooden  facade.  From  the  bluffs  that  wall 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  21 

Green  River  the  sweet,  clean  sage-brush  wind 
blew  down  in  currents  freshly  through  the  coal- 
smoke.  A  wrench  passed  through  the  train  from 
locomotive  to  caboose,  each  fettered  car  in  turn 
strained  into  motion  and  slowly  rolled  over  the 
bridge  and  into  silence  from  the  steam  and  the 
bells  of  the  railroad  yard.  Through  the  open 
windows  of  the  caboose  great  dull -red  cinders 
rattled  in,  and  the  whistles  of  distant  Union 
Pacific  locomotives  sounded  over  the  open  plains 
ominous  and  long,  like  ships  at  sea. 

Honey  and  Lin  sat  for  a  while,  making  few 
observations  and  far  between,  as  their  way  is  be- 
tween whom  flows  a  stream  of  old-time  under- 
standing. Mutual  whiskey  and  silence  can  ex- 
press much  friendship,  and  eloquently. 

"  What  are  yu'  doing  at  present  ?"  Lin  in- 
quired. 

"  Prospectin'." 

Now  prospecting  means  hunting  gold,  except 
to  such  spirits  as  the  boy  Lin.  To  these  it 
means  finding  gold.  So  Lin  McLean  listened 
to  the  talk  of  his  friend  Honey  Wiggin  as  the 
caboose  trundled  through  the  night.  He  saw 
himself  in  a  vision  of  the  near  future  enter  a 
bank  and  thump  down  a  bag  of  gold-dust.  Then 
he  saw  the  new,  clean  money  the  man  would 
hand  him  in  exchange,  bills  with  round  zeroes 
half  covered  by  being  folded  over,  and  heavy, 
satisfactory  gold  pieces.  And  then  he  saw  the 
blue  water  that  twinkles  beneath  Boston.  His 
fingers  came  again  on  his  trunk  check.  He  had 
his  ticket,  too.  And  as  dawn  now  revealed  the 
gray  country  to  him,  his  eye  fell  casually  upon  a 


22  LIN  MCLEAN 

mile-post :  "  Omaha,  876."  He  began  to  watch 
for  them  : — 877,  878.  But  the  trunk  would  really 
get  to  Omaha. 

"  What  are  yu'  laughin'  about  ?"  asked  Honey. 

"  Oh,  the  wheels." 

"Wheels?" 

"  Don't  yu'  hear  'em?"  said  Lin.  "'Variety,' 
they  keep  a-sayin'.  'Variety,  variety.'  " 

"  Huh  !"  said  Honey,  with  scorn.  "  '  Ker-chunk- 
a-chunk  '  's  all  I  make  it." 

"  You're  no  poet,"  observed  Mr.  McLean. 

As  the  train  moved  into  Evanston  in  the  sun- 
light, a  gleam  of  dismay  shot  over  Lin's  face, 
and  he  ducked  his  head  out  of  sight  of  the  win- 
dow, but  immediately  raised  it  again.  Then  he 
leaned  out,  waving  his  arm  with  a  certain  defiant 
vigor.  But  the  bishop  on  the  platform  failed  to 
notice  this  performance,  though  it  was  done  for 
his  sole  benefit,  nor  would  Lin  explain  to  the  in- 
quisitive Wiggin  what  the  matter  was.  There- 
fore, very  naturally,  Honey  drew  a  conclusion  for 
himself,  looked  quickly  out  of  the  window,  and, 
being  disappointed  in  what  he  expected  to  see, 
remarked,  sulkily,  "  Do  yu'  figure  I  care  what 
sort  of  a  lookin'  girl  is  stuck  on  yu'  in  Evans- 
ton?"  And  upon  this  young  Lin  laughed  so 
loudly  that  his  friend  told  him  he  had  never  seen 
a  man  get  so  foolish  in  three  years. 

By-and-by  they  were  in  Utah,  and,  in  the  com- 
pany of  Ogden  friends,  forgot  prospecting.  Later 
they  resumed  freight  trains  and  journeyed  north. 
In  Idaho  they  said  good-bye  to  the  train  hands  in 
the  caboose,  and  came  to  Little  Camas,  and  so 
among  the  mountains  near  Feather  Creek.  Here 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  23 

the  berries  were  of  several  sorts,  and  growing 
riper  each  day  ;  and  the  bears  in  the  timber 
above  knew  this,  and  came  down  punctually 
with  the  season,  making  variety  in  the  otherwise 
even  life  of  the  prospectors.  It  was  now  August, 
and  Lin  sat  on  a  wet  hill  making  mud-pies  for 
sixty  days.  But  the  philosopher's  stone  was  not 
in  the  wash  at  that  placer,  nor  did  Lin  gather 
gold-dust  sufficient  to  cover  the  nail  of  his  thumb. 
Then  they  heard  of  an  excitement  at  Obo,  Nevada, 
and,  hurrying  to  Obo,  they  made  some  more  mud- 
pies. 

Now  and  then,  eating  their  fat  bacon  at  noon, 
Honey  would  say,  "  Lin,  wher're  yu'  goin'  ?" 

And  Lin  always  replied,  "  East."  This  became 
a  signal  for  drinks. 

For  beauty  and  promise,  Nevada  is  a  name 
among  names.  Nevada !  Pronounce  the  word 
aloud.  Does  it  not  evoke  mountains  and  clear 
air,  heights  of  untrodden  snow  and  valleys  aro- 
matic with  the  pine  and  musical  with  falling  wa- 
ters ?  Nevada  !  But  the  name  is  all.  Abomina- 
tion of  desolation  presides  over  nine-tenths  of  the 
place.  The  sun  beats  down  as  on  a  roof  of  zinc, 
fierce  and  dull.  Not  a  drop  of  water  to  a  mile  of 
sand.  The  mean  ash-dump  landscape  stretches 
on  from  nowhere  to  nowhere,  a  spot  of  mange. 
No  portion  of  the  earth  is  more  lacquered  with 
paltry,  unimportant  ugliness. 

There  is  gold  in  Nevada,  but  Lin  and  Honey 
did  not  find  it.  Prospecting  of  the  sort  they  did, 
besides  proving  unfruitful,  is  not  comfortable. 
Now  and  again,  losing  patience,  Lin  would  leave 
his  work  and  stalk  about  and  gaze  down  at  the 


24  LIN  MCLEAN 

scattered  men  who  stooped  or  knelt  in  the  water. 
Passing  each  busy  prospector,  Lin  would  read 
on  every  broad,  upturned  pair  of  overalls  the 
same  label,  "Levi  Strauss,  No.  2,"  with  a  picture 
of  two  lusty  horses  hitched  to  one  of  these  gar- 
ments and  vainly  struggling  to  split  them  asun- 
der. Lin  remembered  he  was  wearing  a  label 
just  like  that  too,  and  when  he  considered  all 
things  he  laughed  to  himself.  Then,  having 
stretched  the  ache  out  of  his  long  legs,  he  would 
return  to  his  ditch.  As  autumn  wore  on,  his  feet 
grew  cold  in  the  mushy  gravel  they  were  sunk 
in.  He  beat  off  the  sand  that  had  stiffened  on 
his  boots,  and  hated  Obo,  Nevada.  But  he  held 
himself  ready  to  say  "  East "  whenever  he  saw 
Honey  coming  along  with  the  bottle.  The  cold 
weather  put  an  end  to  this  adventure.  The 
ditches  froze  and  filled  with  snow,  through  which 
the  sordid  gravel  heaps  showed  in  a  dreary  fash- 
ion ;  so  the  two  friends  drifted  southward. 

Near  the  small  new  town  of  Mesa,  Arizona, 
they  sat  down  again  in  the  dirt.  It  was  milder 
here,  and,  when  the  sun  shone,  never  quite  froze. 
But  this  part  of  Arizona  is  scarcely  more  grate- 
ful to  the  eye  than  Nevada.  Moreover,  Lin  and 
Honey  found  no  gold  at  all.  Some  men  near 
them  found  a  little.  Then  in  January,  even 
though  the  sun  shone,  it  quite  froze  one  day. 

"  We're  seein'  the  country,  anyway,"  said 
Honey. 

"  Seein'  hell,"  said  Lin,  "  and  there's  more  of  it 
above  ground  than  I  thought." 

"  What  '11  we  do  ?"  Honey  inquired. 

"  Have  to  walk  for  a  job — a  good  -  payin'  job," 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  25 

responded  the  hopeful  cow-puncher.  And  he  and 
Honey  went  to  town. 

Lin  found  a  job  in  twenty-five  minutes,  becom- 
ing assistant  to  the  apothecary  in  Mesa.  Estab- 
lished at  the  drug-store,  he  made  up  the  simpler 
prescriptions.  He  had  studied  practical  phar- 
macy in  Boston  between  the  ages  of  thirteen  and 
fifteen,  and,  besides  this  qualification,  the  apothe- 
cary had  seen  him  when  he  first  came  into  Mesa, 
and  liked  him.  Lin  made  no  mistakes  that  he  or 
any  one  ever  knew  of  ;  and,  as  the  mild  weather 
began,  he  materially  increased  the  apothecary's 
business  by  persuading  him  to  send  East  for  a 
soda-water  fountain.  The  ladies  of  the  town 
clustered  around  this  entertaining  novelty,  and 
while  sipping  vanilla  and  lemon  bought  knick- 
knacks.  And  the  gentlemen  of  the  town  discov- 
ered that  whiskey  with  soda  and  strawberry  syrup 
was  delicious,  and  produced  just  as  competent 
effects.  A  group  of  them  were  generally  stand- 
ing in  the  shop  and  shaking  dice  to  decide  who 
should  pay  for  the  next,  while  Lin  administered 
to  each  glass  the  necessary  ingredients.  Thus 
money  began  to  come  to  him  a  little  more  stead- 
ily than  had  been  its  wont,  and  he  divided  with 
the  penniless  Honey. 

But  Honey  found  fortune  quickly,  too.  Through 
excellent  card-playing  he  won  a  pinto  from  a  small 
Mexican  horse-thief  who  came  into  town  from  the 
South,  and  who  cried  bitterly  when  he  deliver- 
ed up  his  pet  pony  to  the  new  owner.  The  new 
owner,  being  a  man  of  the  world  and  agile  on  his 
feet,  was  only  slightly  stabbed  that  evening  as  he 
walked  to  the  dance-hall  at  the  edge  of  the  town. 


26  LIN  MCLEAN 

The  Mexican  was  buried  on  the  next  day  but 
one. 

The  pony  stood  thirteen  two,  and  was  as  long 
as  a  steamboat.  He  had  white  eyelashes,  pink 
nostrils,  and  one  eye  was  bright  blue.  If  you 
spoke  pleasantly  to  him,  he  rose  instantly  on  his 
hind-legs  and  tried  to  beat  your  face.  He  did  not 
look  as  if  he  could  run,  and  that  was  what  made 
him  so  valuable.  Honey  travelled  through  the 
country  with  him,  and  every  gentleman  who  saw 
the  pinto  and  heard  Honey  became  anxious  to  get 
up  a  race.  Lin  always  sent  money  for  Wiggin  to 
place,  and  he  soon  opened  a  bank  account,  while 
Honey,  besides  his  racing-bridle,  bought  a  silver- 
inlaid  one,  a  pair  of  forty-dollar  spurs,  and  a  beau- 
tiful saddle  richly  stamped.  Every  day  (when  in 
Mesa)  Honey  would  step  into  the  drug-store  and 
inquire,  "  Lin,  wher're  yu'  goin'  ?" 

But  Lin  never  answered  any  more.  He  merely 
came  to  the  soda-water  fountain  with  the  whiskey. 
The  passing  of  days  brought  a  choked  season  of 
fine  sand  and  hard  blazing  sky.  Heat  rose  up 
from  the  ground  and  hung  heavily  over  man  and 
beast.  Many  insects  sat  out  in  the  sun  rattling 
with  joy  ;  the  little  tearing  river  grew  clear  from 
the  swollen  mud,  and  shrank  to  a  succession  of 
standing  pools ;  and  the  fat,  squatting  cactus 
bloomed  everywhere  into  butter-colored  flowers 
big  as  tulips  in  the  sand.  There  were  artesian 
wells  in  Mesa,  and  the  water  did  not  taste  very 
good ;  but  if  you  drank  from  the  standing  pools 
where  the  river  had  been,  you  repaired  to  the 
drug-store  almost  immediately.  A  troop  of  wan- 
dering players  came  dotting  along  the  railroad, 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  27 

and,  reaching  Mesa,  played  a  brass-band  up  and 
down  the  street,  and  announced  the  powerful 
drama  of  "East  Lynne."  Then  Mr.  McLean 
thought  of  the  Lynn  marshes  that  lie  between 
there  and  Chelsea,  and  of  the  sea  that  must  look 
so  cool.  He  forgot  them  while  following  the  pain- 
ful fortunes  of  the  Lady  Isabel ;  but,  going  to  bed 
in  the  back  part  of  the  drug-store,  he  remembered 
how  he  used  to  beat  everybody  swimming  in  the 
salt  water. 

"I'm  goin',"  he  said.  Then  he  got  up,  and, 
striking  the  light,  he  inspected  his  bank  account. 
*'  I'm  sure  goin',''  he  repeated,  blowing  the  light 
out,  "  and  I  can  buy  the  fatted  calf  myself,  you 
bet !"  for  he  had  often  thought  of  the  bishop's 
story.  "You  bet !"  he  remarked  once  more  in  a 
muffled  voice,  and  was  asleep  in  a  minute.  The 
apothecary  was  sorry  to  have  him  go,  and  Honey 
was  deeply  grieved. 

"  I'd  pull  out  with  yer,"  he  said,  "  only  I  can  do 
business  round  Yuma  and  westward  with  the 
pinto." 

For  three  farewell  days  Lin  and  Honey  roved 
together  in  all  sorts  of  places,  where  they  were 
welcome,  and  once  more  Lin  rode  a  horse  and 
was  in  his  native  element.  Then  he  travelled 
to  Deming,  and  so  through  Denver  to  Omaha, 
where  he  was  told  that  his  trunk  had  been  sold 
for  some  months.  Besides  a  suit  of  clothes  for 
town  wear,  it  had  contained  a  buffalo  coat  for  his 
brother — something  scarce  to  see  in  these  days. 

"  Frank  '11  have  to  get  along  without  it,"  he  ob- 
served, philosophically,  and  took  the  next  east- 
bound  train. 


28  LIN  MCLEAN 

If  you  journey  in  a  Pullman  from  Mesa  to 
Omaha  without  a  waistcoat,  and  with  a  silk  hand- 
kerchief knotted  over  the  collar  of  your  flannel 
shirt  instead  of  a  tie,  wearing,  besides,  tall,  high- 
heeled  boots,  a  soft,  gray  hat  with  a  splendid  brim, 
a  few  people  will  notice  you,  but  not  the  major- 
ity. New  Mexico  and  Colorado  are  used  to  these 
things.  As  Iowa,  with  its  immense  rolling  grain, 
encompasses  you,  people  will  stare  a  little  more, 
for  you're  getting  near  the  East,  where  cow- 
punchers  are  not  understood.  But  in  those  days 
the  line  of  cleavage  came  sharp-drawn  at  Chicago. 
West  of  there  was  still  tolerably  west,  but  east  of 
there  was  east  indeed,  and  the  Atlantic  Ocean 
was  the  next  important  stopping-place.  In  Lin's 
new  train,  good  gloves,  patent -leathers,  and  si- 
lence prevailed  throughout  the  sleeping-car,  which 
was  for  Boston  without  change.  Had  not  home 
memories  begun  impetuously  to  flood  his  mind, 
he  would  have  felt  himself  conspicuous.  Town 
clothes  and  conventions  had  their  due  value  with 
him.  But  just  now  the  boy's  single  -  hearted 
thoughts  were  far  from  any  surroundings,  and 
he  was  murmuring  to  himself,  "  To-morrow  !  to- 
morrow night !" 

There  were  ladies  in  that  blue  plush  car  for 
Boston  who  looked  at  Lin  for  thirty  miles  at  a 
stretch;  and  by  the  time  Albany  was  reached  the 
next  day  one  or  two  of  them  commented  that  he 
was  the  most  attractive -looking  man  they  had 
ever  seen!  Whereas,  beyond  his  tallness,  and 
wide-open,  jocular  eyes,  eyes  that  seemed  those 
of  a  not  highly  conscientious  wild  animal,  there 
was  nothing  remarkable  about  young  Lin  except 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  29 

stage  effect.  The  conductor  had  been  annoyed 
to  have  such  a  passenger;  but  the  cow-puncher 
troubled  no  one,  and  was  extremely  silent.  So 
evidently  was  he  a  piece  of  the  true  frontier  that 
curious  and  hopeful  fellow-passengers,  after  watch- 
ing him  with  diversion,  more  than  once  took  a 
seat  next  to  him.  He  met  their  chatty  inquiries 
with  monosyllables  so  few  and  so  unprofitable  in 
their  quiet  politeness  that  the  passengers  soon 
gave  him  up.  At  Springfield  he  sent  a  telegram 
to  his  brother  at  the  great  dry -goods  establish- 
ment that  employed  him. 

The  train  began  its  homestretch  after  Worces- 
ter, and  whirled  and  swung  by  hills  and  ponds 
he  began  to  watch  for,  and  through  stations  with 
old  wayside  names.  These  flashed  on  Lin's  eye 
as  he  sat  with  his  hat  off  and  his  forehead  against 
the  window,  looking  :  Wellesley.  Then,  not  long 
after,  Riverside.  That  was  the  Charles  River, 
and  did  the  picnic  woods  used  to  be  above  the 
bridge  or  below?  West  Newton;  Newton ville; 
Newton.  "  Faneuil's  next,"  he  said  aloud  in  the 
car,  as  the  long-forgotten  home-knowledge  shone 
forth  in  his  recollection.  The  traveller  seated 
near  said,  "  Beg  pardon  ?"  but,  turning,  wonder- 
ed at  the  all-unconscious  Lin,  with  his  forehead 
pressed  against  the  glass.  The  blue  water  flashed 
into  sight,  and  soon  after  they  were  running  in 
the  darkness  between  high  walls ;  but  the  cow- 
puncher  never  moved,  though  nothing  could  be 
seen.  When  the  porter  announced  "  Boston,"  he 
started  up  and  followed  like  a  sheep  in  the  general 
exodus.  Down  on  the  platform  he  moved  along 
with  the  slow  crowd  till  some  one  touched  him, 


30  LIN    McLEAN 

and,  wheeling  round,  he  seized  both  his  brother's 
hands  and  swore  a  good  oath  of  joy. 

There  they  stood — the  long,  brown  fellow  with 
the  silk  handkerchief  knotted  over  his  flannel 
shirt,  greeting  tremendously  the  spruce  civilian, 
who  had  a  rope-colored  mustache  and  bore  a  faint- 
hearted resemblance  to  him.  The  story  was  plain 
on  its  face  to  the  passers-by;  and  one  of  the  ladies 
who  had  come  in  the  car  with  Lin  turned  twice, 
and  smiled  gently  to  herself. 

But  Frank  McLean's  heart  did  not  warm.  He 
felt  that  what  he  had  been  afraid  of  was  true  ;  and 
he  saw  he  was  being  made  conspicuous.  He  saw 
men  and  women  stare  in  the  station,  and  he  saw 
them  staring  as  he  and  his  Western  brother  went 
through  the  streets.  Lin  strode  along,  sniffing 
the  air  of  Boston,  looking  at  all  things,  and  making 
it  a  stretch  for  his  sleek  companion  to  keep  step 
with  him.  Frank  thought  of  the  refined  friends 
he  should  have  to  introduce  his  brother  to  ;  for 
he  had  risen  with  his  salary,  and  now  belonged 
to  a  small  club  where  the  paying-tellers  of  banks 
played  cards  every  night,  and  the  head  clerk  at 
the  Parker  House  was  president.  Perhaps  he 
should  not  have  to  reveal  the  cow-puncher  to 
these  shining  ones.  Perhaps  the  cow  -  puncher 
would  not  stay  very  long.  Of  course  he  was  glad 
to  see  him  again,  and  he  would  take  him  to  dine 
at  some  obscure  place  this  first  evening.  But 
this  was  not  Lin's  plan.  Frank  must  dine  with 
him,  at  the  Parker  House.  Frank  demurred,  say- 
ing it  was  he  that  should  be  host. 

"And,"  he  added,  "they  charge  up  high  for 
wines  at  Parker's."  Then  for  the  twentieth  time 


HOW    LIN   McLEAN   WENT   EAST  31 

he  shifted  a  sidelong  eye  over  his  brother's 
clothes. 

"  You're  goin'  to  take  your  grub  with  me,"  said 
Lin.  "  That's  all  right,  I  guess.  And  there  ain't 
any  *  no '  about  it.  Things  is  not  the  same  like 
as  if  father  was  livin' — (his  voice  softened) — and 
here  to  see  me  come  home.  Now  I'm  good  for 
several  dinners  with  wines  charged  up  high,  I 
expect,  nor  it  ain't  nobody  in  this  world,  barrin' 
just  Lin  McLean,  that  I've  any  need  to  ask  for 
anything.  '  Mr.  McLean,'  says  I  to  Lin, '  can  yu' 
spare  me  some  cash?'  'Why,  to  be  sure,  you 
bet !'  And  we'll  start  off  with  steamed  Duxbury 
clams."  The  cow-puncher  slapped  his  pocket, 
where  the  coin  made  a  muffled  chinking.  Then  he 
said,  gruffly,  "  I  suppose  Swampscott's  there  yet  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Frank.  "  It's  a  dead  little  town,  is 
Swampscott." 

"  I  guess  I'll  take  a  look  at  the  old  house  to- 
morrow," Lin  pursued. 

"  Oh,  that's  been  pulled  down  since —  I  forget 
the  year  they  improved  that  block." 

Lin  regarded  in  silence  his  brother,  who  was 
speaking  so  jauntily  of  the  first  and  last  home 
they  had  ever  had. 

"  Seventy  -  nine  is  when  it  was,"  continued 
Frank.  "  So  you  can  save  the  trouble  of  travel- 
ling away  down  to  Swampscott." 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  to  the  graveyard,  anyway,"  said 
the  cow-puncher  in  his  offish  voice,  and  looking 
fixedly  in  front  of  him. 

They  came  into  Washington  Street,  and  again 
the  elder  McLean  uneasily  surveyed  the  young- 
er's  appearance. 


32  LIN  MCLEAN 

But  the  momentary  chill  had  melted  from  the 
heart  of  the  genial  Lin.  "  After  to-morrow,"  said 
he,  laying  a  hand  on  his  brother's  shoulder,  "  yu' 
can  start  any  lead  yu'  please,  and  I  guess  I  can 
stay  with  yu'  pretty  close,  Frank." 

Frank  said  nothing.  He  saw  one  of  the  mem- 
bers of  his  club  on  the  other  side  of  the  way,  and 
the  member  saw  him,  and  Frank  caught  diverted 
amazement  on  the  member's  face.  Lin's  hand 
weighed  on  his  shoulder,  and  the  stress  became 
too  great.  "  Lin,"  said  he,  "  while  you're  running 
with  our  crowd,  you  don't  want  to  wear  that  style 
of  hat,  you  know." 

It  may  be  that  such  words  can  in  some  way  be 
spoken  at  such  a  time,  but  not  in  the  way  that 
these  were  said.  The  frozen  fact  was  irrevocably 
revealed  in  the  tone  of  Frank's  voice. 

The  cow-puncher  stopped  dead  short,  and  his 
hand  slid  off  his  brother's  shoulder.  "You've 
made  it  plain,"  he  said,  evenly,  slanting  his  steady 
eyes  down  into  Frank's.  "  You've  explained  your- 
self fairly  well.  Run  along  with  your  crowd,  and 
I'll  not  bother  yu'  more  with  comin'  round  and 
causin'  yu'  to  feel  ashamed.  It's  a  heap  better  to 
understand  these  things  at  once,  and  save  mak- 
ing a  fool  of  yourself  any  longer  'n  yu'  need  to.  I 
guess  there  ain't  no  more  to  be  said,  only  one 
thing.  If  yu'  see  me  around  on  the  street,  don't 
yu'  try  any  talk,  for  I'd  be  liable  to  close  your 
jaw  up,  and  maybe  yu'd  have  more  of  a  job  ex- 
plainin'  that  to  your  crowd  than  you've  had  mak- 
in'  me  see  what  kind  of  a  man  I've  got  for  a 
brother." 

Frank  found  himself  standing  alone  before  any 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  33 

reply  to  these  sentences  had  occurred  to  him. 
He  walked  slowly  to  his  club,  where  a  friend  joked 
him  on  his  glumness. 

Lin  made  a  sore  failure  of  amusing  himself  that 
night;  and  in  the  bright,  hot  morning  he  got  into 
the  train  for  Swampscott.  At  the  graveyard  he 
saw  a  woman  lay  a  bunch  of  flowers  on  a  mound 
and  kneel,  weeping. 

"There  ain't  nobody  to  do  that  for  this  one," 
thought  the  cow-puncher,  and  looked  down  at  the 
grave  he  had  come  to  see,  then  absently  gazed  at 
the  woman. 

She  had  stolen  away  from  her  daily  life  to  come 
here  where  her  grief  was  shrined,  and  now  her 
heart  found  it  hard  to  bid  the  lonely  place  good- 
bye. So  she  lingered  long,  her  thoughts  sunk 
deep  in  the  motionless  past.  When  she  at  last 
looked  up,  she  saw  the  tall,  strange  man  re-enter 
from  the  street  among  the  tombs,  and  deposit  on 
one  of  them  an  ungainly  lump  of  flowers.  They 
were  what  Lin  had  been  able  hastily  to  buy  in 
Swampscott.  He  spread  them  gently  as  he  had 
noticed  the  woman  do,  but  her  act  of  kneeling 
he  did  not  imitate.  He  went  away  quickly.  For 
some  hours  he  hung  about  the  little  town,  aim- 
lessly loitering,  watching  the  salt  water  where  he 
used  to  swim. 

"Yu*  don't  belong  any  more,  Lin,"  he  miser- 
ably said  at  length,  and  took  his  way  to  Boston. 

The  next  morning,  determined  to  see  the  sights, 
he  was  in  New  York,  and  drifted  about  to  all  places 
night  and  day,  till  his  money  was  mostly  gone,, 
and  nothing  to  show  for  it  but  a  somewhat  pleas- 
ure-beaten face  and  a  deep  hatred  of  the  crowded, 
3 


34  LIN  MCLEAN 

scrambling  East.  So  he  suddenly  bought  a  ticket 
for  Green  River,  Wyoming,  and  escaped  from  the 
city  that  seemed  to  numb  his  good  humor. 

When,  after  three  days,  the  Missouri  lay  behind 
him  and  his  holiday,  he  stretched  his  legs  and 
took  heart  to  see  out  of  the  window  the  signs  of 
approaching  desolation.  And  when  on  the  fourth 
day  civilization  was  utterly  emptied  out  of  the 
world,  he  saw  a  bunch  of  cattle,  and,  galloping 
among  them,  his  spurred  and  booted  kindred. 
And  his  manner  took  on  that  alertness  a  horse 
shows  on  turning  into  the  home  road.  As  the 
stage  took  him  toward  Washakie,  old  friends 
turned  up  every  fifty  miles  or  so,  shambling  out 
of  a  cabin  or  a  stable,  and  saying,  in  casual  tones, 
"  Hello,  Lin,  where've  you  been  at  ?" 

At  Lander,  there  got  into  the  stage  another 
old  acquaintance,  the  Bishop  of  Wyoming.  He 
knew  Lin  at  once,  and  held  out  his  hand,  and  his 
greeting  was  hearty. 

"  It  took  a  week  for  my  robes  to  catch  up  with 
me,"  he  said,  laughing.  Then,  in  a  little  while, 
"  How  was  the  East  ?" 

"  First-rate,"  said  Lin,  not  looking  at  him.  He 
was  shy  of  the  conversation's  taking  a  moral  turn. 
But  the  bishop  had  no  intention  of  reverting — at 
any  rate,  just  now — to  their  last  talk  at  Green 
River,  and  the  advice  he  had  then  given. 

"  I  trust  your  friends  were  all  well  ?"  he  said. 

"  I  guess  they  was  healthy  enough,"  said  Lin. 

"  I  suppose  you  found  Boston  much  changed  ? 
It's  a  beautiful  city." 

"Good  enough  town  for  them  that  likes  it,  I 
expect,"  Lin  replied. 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  35 

The  bishop  was  forming  a  notion  of  what  the 
matter  must  be,  but  he  had  no  notion  whatever 
of  what  now  revealed  itself. 

"  Mr.  Bishop,"  the  cow-puncher  said,  "  how  was 
that  about  that  fellow  you  told  about  that's  in 
the  Bible  somewheres? — he  come  home  to  his 
folks,  and  they — well  there  was  his  father  saw 
him  comin' — "  He  stopped,  embarrassed. 

Then  the  bishop  remembered  the  wide-open 
eyes,  and  how  he  had  noticed  them  in  the  church 
at  the  agency  intently  watching  him.  And,  just 
now,  what  were  best  to  say  he  did  not  know.  He 
looked  at  the  young  man  gravely. 

"  Have  yu'  got  a  Bible  ?"  pursued  Lin.  "  For, 
excuse  me,  but  I'd  like  yu'  to  read  that  onced." 

So  the  bishop  read,  and  Lin  listened.  And  all 
the  while  this  good  clergyman  was  perplexed  how 
to  speak — or  if  indeed  to  speak  at  this  time  at  all 
— to  the  heart  of  the  man  beside  him  for  whom 
the  parable  had  gone  so  sorely  wrong.  When  the 
reading  was  done,  Lin  had  not  taken  his  eyes 
from  the  bishop's  face. 

"How  long  has  that  there  been  wrote?"  he 
asked. 

He  was  told  about  how  long. 

"  Mr.  Bishop,"  said  Lin,  "  I  'ain't  got  good 
knowledge  of  the  Bible,  and  I  never  figured  it 
to  be  a  book  much  on  to  facts.  And  I  tell  you 
I'm  more  plumb  beat  about  it's  having  that  elder 
brother,  and  him  being  angry,  down  in  black  and 
white  two  thousand  years  ago,  than — than  if  I'd 
seen  a  man  turn  water  into  wine,  for  I'd  have 
knowed  that  ain't  so.  But  the  elder  brother  is 
facts — dead-sure  facts.  And  they  knowed  about 


36  LIN  MCLEAN 

that,  and  put  it  down  just  the  same  as  life  two 
thousand  years  ago  !" 

"Well,"  said  the  bishop,  wisely  ignoring  the 
challenge  as  to  miracles,  "  I  am  a  good  twenty 
years  older  than  you,  and  all  that  time  I've  been 
rinding  more  facts  in  the  Bible  every  day  I  have 
lived." 

Lin  meditated.  "  I  guess  that  could  be,"  he 
said.  "  Yes  ;  after  that  yu've  been  a-readin',  and 
what  I  know  for  myself  that  I  didn't  know  till 
lately,  I  guess  that  could  be." 

Then  the  bishop  talked  with  exceeding  care, 
nor  did  he  ask  uncomfortable  things,  or  moralize 
visibly.  Thus  he  came  to  hear  how  it  had  fared 
with  Lin  his  friend,  and  Lin  forgot  altogether 
about  its  being  a  parson  he  was  delivering  the 
fulness  of  his  heart  to.  "And  come  to  think,"  he 
concluded,  "  it  weren't  home  I  had  went  to  back 
East,  layin'  round  them  big  cities,  where  a  man 
can't  help  but  feel  strange  all  the  week.  No,  sir  ! 
yu'  can  blow  in  a  thousand  dollars  like  I  did  in 
New  York,  and  it  '11  not  give  yu'  any  more  home 
feelin'  than  what  cattle  has  put  in  a  stock-yard. 
Nor  it  wouldn't  have  in  Boston  neither.  Now 
this  country  here  "  (he  waved  his  hand  towards 
the  endless  sage-brush),  "seein'  it  onced  more,  I 
know  where  my  home  is,  and  I  wouldn't  live  no- 
wheres  else.  Only  I  'ain't  got  no  father  watching 
for  me  to  come  up  Wind  River." 

The  cow-puncher  stated  this  merely  as  a  fact, 
and  without  any  note  of  self-pity.  But  the  bish- 
op's face  grew  very  tender,  and  he  looked  away 
from  Lin.  Knowing  his  man — for  had  he  not 
seen  many  of  this  kind  in  his  desert  diocese  ? — he 


HOW  LIN  MCLEAN  WENT  EAST  37 

forbore  to  make  any  text  from  that  last  sentence 
the  cow-puncher  had  spoken.  Lin  talked  cheer- 
fully on  about  what  he  should  now  do.  The 
round  -  up  must  be  somewhere  near  Du  Noir 
Creek.  He  would  join  it  this  season,  but  next 
he  should  work  over  to  the  Powder  River  coun- 
try. More  business  was  over  there,  and  better 
chances  for  a  man  to  take  up  some  land  and  have 
a  ranch  of  his  own.  As  they  got  out  at  Fort 
Washakie,  the  bishop  handed  him  a  small  book, 
in  which  he  had  turned  several  leaves  down,  care- 
fully avoiding  any  page  that  related  of  miracles. 

"  You  need  not  read  it  through,  you  know,"  he 
said,  smiling ;  "  just  read  where  I  have  marked, 
and  see  if  you  don't  find  some  more  facts.  Good- 
bye— and  always  come  and  see  me." 

The  next  morning  he  watched  Lin  riding  slow- 
ly out  of  the  post  towards  Wind  River,  leading  a 
single  pack-horse.  By-and-by  the  little  moving 
dot  went  over  the  ridge.  And  as  the  bishop 
walked  back  into  the  parade-ground,  thinking 
over  the  possibilities  in  that  untrained  manly 
soul,  he  shook  his  head  sorrowfully. 


THE  WINNING  OF  THE   BISCUIT- 
SHOOTER 

IT  was  quite  clear  to  me  that  Mr.  McLean 
could  not  know  the  news.  Meeting  him  to-day 
had  been  unforeseen — unforeseen  and  so  pleasant 
that  the  thing  had  never  come  into  my  head  un- 
til just  now,  after  both  of  us  had  talked  and 
dined  our  fill,  and  were  torpid  with  satisfaction. 

I  had  found  Lin  here  at  Riverside  in  the  morn- 
ing. At  my  horse's  approach  to  the  cabin,  it 
was  he  and  not  the  postmaster  who  had  come 
precipitately  out  of  the  door. 

"  I'm  turruble  pleased  to  see  yu',"  he  had  said, 
immediately. 

"What's  happened?"  said  I,  in  some  concern 
at  his  appearance. 

And  he  piteously  explained  :  "  Why,  I've  been 
here  all  alone  since  yesterday  !" 

This  was  indeed  all ;  and  my  hasty  impressions 
of  shooting  and  a  corpse  gave  way  to  mirth  over 
the  child  and  his  innocent  grievance  that  he  had 
blurted  out  before  I  could  get  off  my  horse. 

Since  when,  I  inquired  of  him,  had  his  own 
company  become  such  a  shock  to  him  ? 

"As  to  that,"  replied  Mr.  McLean,  a  thought 
ruffled,  "  when  a  man  expects  lonesomeness  he 
stands  it  like  he  stands  anything  else,  of  course. 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         39 

But  when  he  has  figured  on  finding  company — 
say — "  he  broke  off  (and  vindictiveness  sparkled 
in  his  eye) — "  when  you're  lucky  enough  to  catch 
yourself  alone,  why,  I  suppose  yu'  just  take  a  chair 
and  chat  to  yourself  for  hours. — You've  not  seen 
anything  of  Tommy  ?"  he  pursued  with  interest. 

I  had  not ;  and  forthwith  Lin  poured  out  to 
me  the  pent-up  complaints  and  sociability  with 
which  he  was  bursting.  The  foreman  had  sent 
him  over  here  with  a  sackful  of  letters  for  the 
post,  and  to  bring  back  the  week's  mail  for  the 
ranch.  A  day  was  gone  now,  and  nothing  for  a 
man  to  do  but  sit  and  sit.  Tommy  was  overdue 
fifteen  hours.  Well,  you  could  have  endured 
that,  but  the  neighbors  had  all  locked  their  cabins 
and  gone  to  Buffalo.  It  was  circus  week  in  Buf- 
falo. Had  I  ever  considered  the  money  there 
must  be  in  the  circus  business?  Tommy  had 
taken  the  outgoing  letters  early  yesterday.  No- 
body had  kept  him  waiting.  By  all  rules  he 
should  have  been  back  again  last  night.  Maybe 
the  stage  was  late  reaching  Powder  River,  and 
Tommy  had  had  to  lay  over  for  it.  Well,  that 
would  justify  him.  Far  more  likely  he  had  gone 
to  the  circus  himself  and  taken  the  mail  with 
him.  Tommy  was  no  type  of  man  for  postmaster. 
Except  drawing  the  allowance  his  mother  in  the 
East  gave  him  first  of  every  month,  he  had  never 
shown  punctuality,  that  Lin  could  remember. 
Never  had  any  second  thoughts,  and  awful  few 
first  ones.  Told  bigger  lies  than  a  small  man 
ought,  also. 

"  Has  successes,  though,"  said  I,  wickedly. 

"  Huh  !"  went  on  Mr.  McLean.     "  Successes  ! 


40  LIN  MCLEAN 

One  ice-cream-soda  success.  And  she" — Lin's  still 
wounded  male  pride  made  him  plaintive — "  why, 
even  that  girl  quit  him,  once  she  got  the  chance 
to  appreciate  how  insignificant  he  was  compared 
with  the  size  of  his  words.  No,  sir.  Not  one  of 
'em  retains  interest  in  Tommy." 

Lin  was  unsaddling  and  looking  after  my 
horse,  just  because  he  was  glad  to  see  me.  Since 
our  first  acquaintance,  that  memorable  summer 
of  Pitchstone  Canon  when  he  had  taken  such 
good  care  of  me  and  such  bad  care  of  himself,  I 
had  learned  pretty  well  about  horses  and  c^rnp 
craft  in  general.  He  was  an  entire  boy  then. 
But  he  had  been  East  since,  East  by  a  route  of 
his  own  discovering — and  from  his  account  of 
that  journey  it  had  proved,  I  think,  a  sort  of 
spiritual  experience.  And  then  the  years  of  our 
friendship  were  beginning  to  roll  up.  Manhood  of 
the  body  he  had  always  richly  possessed  ;  and 
now,  whenever  we  met  after  a  season's  absence 
and  spoke  those  invariable  words  which  all  old 
friends  upon  this  earth  use  to  each  other  at 
meeting — "  You  haven't  changed,  you  haven't 
changed  at  all !" — I  would  wonder  if  manhood 
had  arrived  in  Lin's  boy  soul.  And  so  to-day, 
while  he  attended  to  my  horse  and  explained  the 
nature  of  Tommy  (a  subject  he  dearly  loved  just 
now),  I  looked  at  him  and  took  an  intimate,  supe- 
rior pride  in  feeling  how  much  more  mature  I 
was  than  he,  after  all. 

There's  nothing  like  a  sense  of  merit  for  mak- 
ing one  feel  aggrieved,  and  on  our  return  to  the 
cabin  Mr.  McLean  pointed  with  disgust  to  some 
firewood. 


THE    WINNING    OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         41 

"  Look  at  those  sorrowful  toothpicks,"  said  he  : 
"  Tommy's  work." 

So  Lin,  the  excellent  hearted,  had  angrily  bus- 
ied himself,  and  chopped  a  pile  of  real  logs  that 
would  last  a  week.  He  had  also  cleaned  the  stove, 
and  nailed  up  the  bed,  the  pillow  -  end  of  which 
was  on  the  floor.  It  appeared  the  master  of  the 
house  had  been  sleeping  in  it  the  reverse  way  on 
account  of  the  slant.  Thus  had  Lin  cooked  and 
dined  alone,  supped  alone,  and  sat  over  some  old 
newspapers  until  bed-time  alone  with  his  sense  of 
virtue.  And  now  here  it  was  long  after  break- 
fast, and  no  Tommy  yet. 

"  It's  good  yu'  come  this  forenoon,"  Lin  said  to 
me.  "  I'd  not  have  had  the  heart  to  get  up  an- 
other dinner  just  for  myself.  Let's  eat  rich  !" 

Accordingly,  we  had  richly  eaten,  Lin  and  I. 
He  had  gone  out  among  the  sheds  and  caught 
some  eggs  (that  is  how  he  spoke  of  it),  we  had 
opened  a  number  of  things  in  cans,  and  I  had 
made  my  famous  dish  of  evaporated  apricots,  in 
which  I  managed  to  fling  a  suspicion  of  caramel 
throughout  the  stew. 

"  Tommy  '11  be  hot  about  these,"  said  Lin,  joy- 
fully, as  we  ate  the  eggs.  "  He  don't  mind  what 
yu'  use  of  his  canned  goods — pickled  salmon  and 
truck.  He  is  hospitable  all  right  enough  till  it 
comes  to  an  egg.  Then  he'll  tell  any  lie.  But 
shucks  !  Yu'  can  read  Tommy  right  through  his 
clothing.  *  Make  yourself  at  home,  Lin,'  says  he, 
yesterday.  And  he  showed  me  his  fresh  milk  and 
his  stuff.  '  Here's  a  new  ham,'  says  he  ;  '  too  bad 
my  damned  hens  'ain't  been  layin'.  The  sons-o'- 
guns  have  quit  on  me  ever  since  Christmas.'  And 


42  LIN  MCLEAN 

away  he  goes  to  Powder  River  for  the  mail.  *  You 
swore  too  heavy  about  them  hens,'  thinks  I.  Well, 
I  expect  he  may  have  travelled  half  a  mile  by  the 
time  I'd  found  four  nests." 

I  am  fond  of  eggs,  and  eat  them  constantly — 
and  in  Wyoming  they  were  always  a  luxury.  But 
I  never  forget  those  that  day,  and  how  Lin  and  I 
enjoyed  them  thinking  of  Tommy.  Perhaps  man- 
hood was  not  quite  established  in  my  own  soul  at 
that  time — and  perhaps  that  is  the  reason  why  it 
is  the  only  time  I  have  ever  known  which  I  would 
live  over  again,  those  years  when  people  said, 
"  You  are  old  enough  to  know  better  " — and  one 
didn't  care  ! 

Salmon,  apricots,  eggs,  we  dealt  with  them  all 
properly,  and  I  had  some  cigars.  It  was  now  that 
the  news  came  back  into  my  head. 

"  What  do  you  think  of —  "  I  began,  and  stop- 
ped. 

I  spoke  out  of  a  long  silence,  the  slack,  luxu- 
rious silence  of  digestion.  I  got  no  answer,  nat- 
urally, from  the  torpid  Lin,  and  then  it  occurred 
to  me  that  he  would  have  asked  me  what  I 
thought,  long  before  this,  had  he  known.  So,  ob- 
serving how  comfortable  he  was,  I  began  differ- 
ently. 

"What  is  the  most  important  event  that  can 
happen  in  this  country  ?"  said  I. 

Mr.  McLean  heard  me  where  he  lay  along  the 
floor  of  the  cabin  on  his  back,  dozing  by  the  fire  ; 
but  his  eyes  remained  closed.  He  waggled  one 
limp,  open  hand  slightly  at  me,  and  torpor  re- 
sumed her  dominion  over  him. 

"  I  want  to  know  what  you  consider  the  most 


THE    WINNING    OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         43 

important  event  that  can  happen  in  this  country," 
said  I,  again,  enunciating  each  word  with  slow 
clearness. 

The  throat  and  lips  of  Mr.  McLean  moved,  and 
a  sulky  sound  came  forth  that  I  recognized  to  be 
meant  for  the  word  "  War."  Then  he  rolled  over 
so  that  his  face  was  away  from  me,  and  put  an 
arm  over  his  eyes. 

"  I  don't  mean  country  in  the  sense  of  United 
States,"  said  I.  "  I  mean  this  country  here,  and 
Bear  Creek,  and — well,  the  ranches  southward  for 
fifty  miles,  say.  Important  to  this  section." 

"  Mosquitoes  '11  be  due  in  about  three  weeks," 
said  Lin.  "  Yu'  might  leave  a  man  rest  till  then." 

"  I  want  your  opinion,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  misery  !  Well,  a  raise  in  the  price  of 
steers." 

"No." 

"Yu'  said  yu'  wanted  my  opinion,"  said  Lin. 
"  Seems  like  yu'  merely  figure  on  givin'  me 
yours." 

"Very  well,"  said  I.     "Very  well,  then." 

I  took  up  a  copy  of  the  Cheyenne  Sun.  It  was 
five  weeks  old,  and  I  soon  perceived  that  I  had 
read  it  three  weeks  ago  ;  but  I  read  it  again  for 
some  minutes  now. 

"  I  expect  a  railroad  would  be  more  important," 
said  Mr.  McLean,  persuasively,  from  the  floor. 

"  Than  a  rise  in  steers  ?"  said  I,  occupied  with 
the  Cheyenne  Sun.  "Oh  yes.  Yes,  a  railroad 
certainly  would." 

"It's  got  to  be  money,  anyhow,"  stated  Lin, 
thoroughly  wakened.  "  Money  in  some  shape." 

"  How  little  you  understand  the  real  wants  of 


44  LIN  MCLEAN 

the  country  !"  said  I,  coming  to  the  point.  "  It's 
a  girl." 

Mr.  McLean  lay  quite  still  on  the  floor. 

"A  girl,"  I  repeated.  "A  new  girl  coming  to 
this  starved  country." 

The  cow-puncher  took  a  long,  gradual  stretch 
and  began  to  smile.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  yu'  caught 
me  —  if  that's  much  to  do  when  a  man  is  half- 
witted with  dinner  and  sleep."  He  closed  his 
eyes  again  and  lay  with  a  specious  expression  of 
indifference.  But  that  sort  of  thing  is  a  solitary 
entertainment,  and  palls.  "  Starved,"  he  present- 
ly muttered.  "  We  are  kind  o'  starved  that  way, 
I'll  admit.  More  dollars  than  girls  to  the  square 
mile.  And  to  think  of  all  of  us  nice,  healthy, 
young  —  bet  yu'  I  know  who  she  is  !"  he  trium- 
phantly cried.  He  had  sat  up  and  levelled  a 
ringer  at  me  with  the  throw  -  down  jerk  of  a 
marksman.  "  Sidney,  Nebraska." 

I  nodded.  This  was  not  the  lady's  name — he 
could  not  recall  her  name — but  his  geography  of 
her  was  accurate. 

One  day  in  February  my  friend,  Mrs.  Taylor, 
over  on  Bear  Creek,  had  received  a  letter  —  no 
common  event  for  her.  Therefore,  during  sev- 
eral days  she  had  all  callers  read  it  just  as  natu- 
rally as  she  had  them  all  see  the  new  baby ;  and 
baby  and  letter  had  both  been  brought  out  for 
me.  The  letter  was  signed, 

' '  Ever  your  afectionite  frend 

"  KATIE  PECK," 

and  was  not  easy  to  read,  here  and  there.  But 
you  could  piece  out  the  drift  of  it,  and  there  was 


THE    WINNING    OP   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         45 

Mrs.  Taylor  by  your  side,  eager  to  help  you  when 
you  stumbled.  Miss  Peck  wrote  that  she  was 
overworked  in  Sidney,  Nebraska,  and  needed  a 
holiday.  When  the  weather  grew  warm  she 
should  like  to  come  to  Bear  Creek  and  be  like 
old  times.  "  Like  to  come  and  be  like  old  times  " 
filled  Mrs.  Taylor  with  sentiment  and  the  cow- 
punchers  with  expectation.  But  it  is  a  long  way 
from  February  to  warm  weather  on  Bear  Creek, 
and  even  cow-punchers  will  forget  about  a  new 
girl  if  she  does  not  come.  For  several  weeks  I 
had  not  heard  Miss  Peck  mentioned,  and  old  girls 
had  to  do.  Yesterday,  however,  when  I  paid  a 
visit  to  Miss  Molly  Wood  (the  Bear  Creek  school- 
mistress), I  found  her  keeping  in  order  the  cabin 
and  the  children  of  the  Taylors,  while  they  were 
gone  forty-five  miles  to  the  stage  station  to  meet 
their  guest. 

"Well,"  said  Lin,  judicially,  "Miss  Wood  is  a 
lady." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  with  deep  gravity.  For  I  was 
thinking  of  an  occasion  when  Mr.  McLean  had 
discovered  that  truth  somewhat  abruptly. 

Lin  thoughtfully  continued.  "  She  is — she's — 
she's — what  are  you  laughin'  at  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing.  You  don't  see  quite  so  much 
of  Miss  Wood  as  you  used  to,  do  you  ?" 

"  Huh  !  So  that's  got  around.  Well,  o'  course 
I'd  ought  t've  knowed  better,  I  suppose.  All  the 
same,  there's  lots  and  lots  of  girls  do  like  gettin' 
kissed  against  their  wishes — and  you  know  it." 

"  But  the  point  would  rather  seem  to  be  that 
she — 

"Would   rather  seem!     Don't   yu'  start   that 


46  LIN  MCLEAN 

professor  style  o'  yours,  or  I'll  —  I'll  talk  more 
wickedness  in  worse  language  than  ever  yu've 
heard  me  do  yet." 

"  Impossible  !"  I  murmured,  sweetly,  and  Master 
Lin  went  on. 

"As  to  point — that  don't  need  to  be  explained 
to  me.  She's  a  lady  all  right."  He  ruminated 
for  a  moment.  "  She  has  about  scared  all  the 
boys  off,  though,"  he  continued.  "And  that's 
what  you  get  by  being  refined,"  he  concluded,  as 
if  Providence  had  at  length  spoken  in  this  matter. 

"  She  has  not  scared  off  a  boy  from  Virginia,  I 
notice,"  said  I.  "  He  was  there  yesterday  after- 
noon again.  Ridden  all  the  way  over  from  Sunk 
Creek.  Didn't  seem  particularly  frightened." 

"  Oh,  well,  nothin'  alarms  him — not  even  refine- 
ment," said  Mr.  McLean,  with  his  grin.  "  And 
she'll  fool  your  Virginian  like  she  done  the  bal- 
ance of  us.  You  wait.  Shucks  !  If  all  the  girls 
were  that  chilly,  why,  what  would  us  poor  punch- 
ers do  ?" 

"You  have  me  cornered,"  said  I,  and  we  sat 
in  a  philosophical  silence,  Lin  on  the  floor  still, 
and  I  at  the  window.  There  I  looked  out  upon 
a  scene  my  eyes  never  tired  of  then,  nor  can  my 
memory  now.  Spring  had  passed  over  it  with  its 
first,  lightest  steps.  The  pastured  levels  undu- 
lated in  emerald.  Through  the  many-changing 
sage,  that  just  this  moment  of  to-day  was  lilac, 
shone  greens  scarce  a  week  old  in  the  dimples  of 
the  foot-hills ;  and  greens  new-born  beneath  to- 
day's sun  melted  among  them.  Around  the  doub- 
lings of  the  creek  in  the  willow  thickets  glimmered 
skeined  veils  of  yellow  and  delicate  crimson.  The 


AROUND  THE  DOUBLINGS    OF  THE   CREEK  THE  WILLOW  THICKETS 
GLIMMERED  " 


THE    WINNING    OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         47 

stream  poured  turbulently  away  from  the  snows 
of  the  mountains  behind  us.  It  went  winding  in 
many  folds  across  the  meadows  into  distance  and 
smallness,  and  so  vanished  round  the  great  red 
battlement  of  wall  beyond.  Upon  this  were  fall- 
ing the  deep  IIUQS  of  afternoon — violet,  rose,  and 
saffron,  swimming  and  meeting  as  if  some  prism 
had  dissolved  and  flowed  over  the  turrets  and 
crevices  of  the  sandstone.  Far  over  there  I  saw 
a  dot  move. 

"  At  last !"  said  I. 

Lin  looked  out  of  the  window.  "  It's  more  than 
Tommy,"  said  he,  at  once ;  and  his  eyes  made  it 
out  before  mine  could.  "  It's  a  wagon.  That's 
Tommy's  bald-faced  horse  alongside.  He's  fool- 
ing to  the  finish,"  Lin  severely  commented,  as  if, 
after  all  this  delay,  there  should  at  least  be  a 
homestretch. 

Presently,  however,  a  homestretch  seemed  like- 
ly to  occur.  The  bald-faced  horse  executed  some 
lively  manoeuvres,  and  Tommy's  voice  reached 
us  faintly  through  the  light  spring  air.  He  was 
evidently  howling  the  remarkable  strain  of  yells 
that  the  cow-punchers  invented  as  the  speech  best 
understood  by  cows  —  "  Oi-ee,  yah,  whoop-yah- 
ye-ee,  oooo-oop,  oop,  oop-oop-oop-oop-yah-hee  !" 
But  that  gives  you  no  idea  of  it.  Alphabets  are 
worse  than  photographs.  It  is  not  the  lungs  of 
every  man  that  can  produce  these  effects,  nor  even 
from  armies,  eagles,  or  mules  were  such  sounds 
ever  heard  on  earth.  The  cow-puncher  invented 
them.  And  when  the  last  cow-puncher  is  laid  to 
rest  (if  that,  alas  !  have  not  already  befallen)  the 
yells  will  be  forever  gone.  Singularly  enough,  the 


48  LIN  MCLEAN 

cattle  appeared  to  appreciate  them.  Tommy  al- 
ways did  them  very  badly,  and  that  was  plain 
even  at  this  distance.  Nor  did  he  give  us  a  home- 
stretch, after  all.  The  bald-faced  horse  made  a 
number  of  evolutions  and  returned  beside  the 
wagon. 

"  Showin'  off,"  remarked  Lin.  "  Tommy's  show- 
in'  off."  Suspicion  crossed  his  face,  and  then  cer- 
tainty. "Why,  we  might  have  knowed  that !"  he 
exclaimed,  in  dudgeon.  "It's  her."  He  hastened 
outside  for  a  better  look,  and  I  came  to  the  door 
myself.  "That's  what  it  is,"  said  he.  "It's  the 
girl.  Oh  yes.  That's  Taylor's  buckskin  pair  he 
traded  Balaam  for.  She  come  by  the  stage  all 
right  yesterday,  yu'  see,  but  she  has  been  too 
tired  to  travel,  yu'  see,  or  else,  maybe,  Taylor 
wanted  to  rest  his  buckskins — they're  four-year- 
olds.  Or  else — anyway,  they  laid  over  last  night 
at  Powder  River,  and  Tommy  he  has  just  laid 
over  too,  yu'  see,  holdin'  the  mail  back  on  us 
twenty-four  hours — and  that's  your  postmaster  !" 

It  was  our  postmaster,  and  this  he  had  done, 
quite  as  the  virtuously  indignant  McLean  sur- 
mised. Had  I  taken  the  same  interest  in  the  new 
girl,  I  suppose  that  I  too  should  have  felt  virtu- 
ously indignant. 

Lin  and  I  stood  outside  to  receive  the  travellers. 
As  their  cavalcade  drew  near,  Mr.  McLean  grew 
silent  and  watchful,  his  whole  attention  focused 
upon  the  Taylors'  vehicle.  Its  approach  was 
joyous.  Its  gear  made  a  cheerful  clanking,  Tay- 
lor cracked  his  whip  and  encouragingly  chirruped 
to  his  buckskins,  and  Tommy's  apparatus  jingled 
musically.  For  Tommy  wore  upon  himself  and 


THE    WINNING   OP   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         49 

his  saddle  all  the  things  you  can  wear  in  the  Wild 
West.  Except  that  his  hair  was  not  long,  our 
postmaster  might  have  conducted  a  show  and 
minted  gold  by  exhibiting  his  romantic  person 
before  the  eyes  of  princes.  He  began  with  a 
black-and-yellow  rattlesnake  skin  for  a  hat-band, 
he  continued  with  a  fringed  and  beaded  shirt 
of  buckskin,  and  concluded  with  large,  tinkling 
spurs.  Of  course,  there  were  things  between  his 
shirt  and  his  heels,  but  all  leather  and  deadly 
weapons.  He  had  also  a  riata,  a  cuerta,  and  tapa- 
deros,  and  frequently  employed  these  Spanish 
names  for  the  objects.  I  wish  that  I  had  not  lost 
Tommy's  photograph  in  Rocky  Mountain  costume. 
You  must  understand  that  he  was  really  pretty, 
with  blue  eyes,  ruddy  cheeks,  and  a  graceful  fig- 
ure; and, besides,  he  had  twenty-four  hours'  start  of 
poor  dusty  Lin,  whose  best  clothes  were  elsewhere. 

You  might  have  supposed  that  it  would  be  Mrs. 
Taylor  who  should  present  us  to  her  friend  from 
Sidney,  Nebraska;  but  Tommy  on  his  horse  un- 
dertook the  office  before  the  wagon  had  well  come 
to  a  standstill.  "  Good  friends  of  mine,  and  gen- 
tlemen, both,"  said  he  to  Miss  Peck;  and  to  us, 
"  A  lady  whose  acquaintance  will  prove  a  treat  to 
our  section." 

We  all  bowed  at  each  other  beneath  the  florid 
expanse  of  these  recommendations,  and  I  was 
proceeding  to  murmur  something  about  its  being 
a  long  journey  and  a  fine  day  when  Miss  Peck  cut 
me  short,  gayly  : 

"  Well,"  she  exclaimed  to  Tommy,  "  I  guess 
I'm  pretty  near  ready  for  them  eggs  you've  spoke 
so  much  about." 


50  LIN  MCLEAN 

I  have  not  often  seen  Mr.  McLean  lose  his 
presence  of  mind.  He  needed  merely  to  exclaim, 
"  Why,  Tommy,  you  told  me  your  hens  had  not 
been  laying  since  Christmas!"  and  we  could  have 
sat  quiet  and  let  Tommy  try  to  find  all  the  eggs 
that  he  could.  But  the  new  girl  was  a  sore  em- 
barrassment to  the  cow-puncher's  wits.  Poor  Lin 
stood  by  the  wheels  of  the  wagon.  He  looked  up 
at  Miss  Peck,  he  looked  over  at  Tommy,  his  feat- 
ures assumed  a  rueful  expression,  and  he  wretch- 
edly blurted, 

"  Why,  Tommy,  I've  been  and  eat  'em." 

"Well,  if  that  ain't!"  cried  Miss  Peck.  She 
stared  with  interest  at  Lin  as  he  now  assisted  her 
to  descend. 

"  All  ?"  faltered  Tommy.    "  Not  the  four  nests  ?" 

"  I've  had  three  meals,  yu'  know,"  Lin  reminded 
him,  deprecatingly. 

"  I  helped  him,"  said  I.  "  Ten  innocent,  fresh 
eggs.  But  we  have  left  some  ham.  Forgive  us, 
please." 

"  I  declare!"  said  Miss  Peck,  abruptly,  and  rolled 
her  sluggish,  inviting  eyes  upon  me.  "  You're  a 
case,  too,  I  expect." 

But  she  took  only  brief  note  of  me,  although 
it  was  from  head  to  foot.  In  her  stare  the  dull 
shine  of  familiarity  grew  vacant,  and  she  turn- 
ed back  to  Lin  McLean.  "  You  carry  that,"  said 
she,  and  gave  the  pleased  cow-puncher  a  hand 
valise. 

"  I'll  look  after  your  things,  Miss  Peck,"  called 
Tommy,  now  springing  down  from  his  horse. 
The  egg  tragedy  had  momentarily  stunned  him. 

"You'll  attend  to  the  mail  first,  Mr.  Postmas- 


THE   WINNING   OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         51 

ter  !"  said  the  lady,  but  favoring  him  with  a  look 
from  her  large  eyes.  "  There's  plenty  of  gentle- 
men here."  With  that  her  glance  favored  Lin. 
She  went  into  the  cabin,  he  following  her  close, 
with  the  Taylors  and  myself  in  the  rear.  "Well, 
I  guess  I'm  about  collapsed  !"  said  she,  vigorous- 
ly, and  sank  upon  one  of  Tommy's  chairs. 

The  fragile  article  fell  into  sticks  beneath  her, 
and  Lin  leaped  to  her  assistance.  He  placed  her 
upon  a  firmer  foundation.  Mrs.  Taylor  brought 
a  basin  and  towel  to  bathe  the  dust  from  her  face, 
Mr.  Taylor  produced  whiskey,  and  I  found  sugar 
and  hot  water.  Tommy  would  doubtless  have 
done  something  in  the  way  of  assistance  or  re- 
storatives, but  he  was  gone  to  the  stable  with  the 
horses. 

"  Shall  I  get  your  medicine  from  the  valise, 
deary  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Taylor. 

"  Not  now,"  her  visitor  answered  ;  and  I  won- 
dered why  she  should  take  such  a  quick  look  at 
me. 

"  We'll  soon  have  yu'  independent  of  medicine," 
said  Lin,  gallantly.  "  Our  climate  and  scenery 
here  has  frequently  raised  the  dead." 

"  You're  a  case,  anyway  !"  exclaimed  the  sick 
lady  with  rich  conviction. 

The  cow-puncher  now  sat  himself  on  the  edge 
of  Tommy's  bed,  and,  throwing  one  leg  across  the 
other,  began  to  raise  her  spirits  with  cheerful 
talk.  She  steadily  watched  him — his  face  some- 
times, sometimes  his  lounging,  masculine  figure. 
While  he  thus  devoted  his  attentions  to  her,  Tay- 
lor departed  to  help  Tommy  at  the  stable,  and 
good  Mrs.  Taylor,  busy  with  supper  for  all  of  us 


52  LIN  MCLEAN 

in  the  kitchen,  expressed  her  joy  at  having  her  old 
friend  of  childhood  for  a  visit  after  so  many  years. 

"  Sickness  has  changed  poor  Katie  some,"  said 
she.  "  But  I'm  hoping  she'll  get  back  her  looks 
on  Bear  Creek." 

"  She  seems  less  feeble  than  I  had  understood," 
I  remarked. 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  I  do  believe  she's  feeling  strong- 
er. She  was  that  tired  and  down  yesterday  with 
the  long  stage-ride,  and  it  is  so  lonesome  !  But 
Taylor  and  I  heartened  her  up,  and  Tommy  came 
with  the  mail,  and  to-day  she's  real  spruced-up 
like,  feeling  she's  among  friends." 

"  How  long  will  she  stay  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Just  as  long  as  ever  she  wants  !  Me  and 
Katie  hasn't  met  since  we  was  young  girls  in 
Dubuque,  for  I  left  home  when  I  married  Taylor, 
and  he  brought  me  to  this  country  right  soon; 
and  it  'ain't  been  like  Dubuque  much,  though  if 
I  had  it  to  do  over  again  I'd  do  just  the  same,  as 
Taylor  knows.  Katie  and  me  hasn't  wrote  even, 
not  till  this  February,  for  you  always  mean  to  and 
you  don't.  Well,  it  '11  be  like  old  times.  Katie  '11 
be  most  thirty-four,  I  expect.  Yes.  I  was  sev- 
enteen and  she  was  sixteen  the  very  month  I  was 
married.  Poor  thing  !  She  ought  to  have  got 
some  good  man  for  a  husband,  but  I  expect  she 
didn't  have  any  chance,  for  there  was  a  big  fam'ly 
o'  them  girls,  and  old  Peck  used  to  act  real  scan- 
dalous, getting  drunk  so  folks  didn't  visit  there 
evenings  scarcely  at  all.  And  so  she  quit  home, 
it  seems,  and  got  a  position  in  the  railroad  eating- 
house  at  Sidney,  and  now  she  has  poor  health 
with  feeding  them  big  trains  day  and  night." 


THE    WINNING    OP   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         53 

"A  biscuit-shooter  !"  said  I. 

Loyal  Mrs.  Taylor  stirred  some  batter  in  si- 
lence. "  Well,"  said  she  then,  "  I'm  told  that's 
what  the  yard -hands  of  the  railroad  call  them 
poor  waiter-girls.  You  might  hear  it  around  the 
switches  at  them  division  stations." 

I  had  heard  it  in  higher  places  also,  but  meekly 
accepted  the  reproof. 

If  you  have  made  your  trans-Missouri  journeys 
only  since  the  new  era  of  dining-cars,  there  is  a 
quantity  of  things  you  have  come  too  late  for, 
and  will  never  know.  Three  times  a  day  in  the 
brave  days  of  old  you  sprang  from  your  scarce- 
halted  car  at  the  summons  of  a  gong.  You  dis- 
cerned by  instinct  the  right  direction,  and,  pass- 
ing steadily  through  doorways,  had  taken,  before 
you  knew  it,  one  of  some  sixty  chairs  in  a  room 
of  tables  and  catsup  bottles.  Behind  the  chairs, 
standing  attention,  a  platoon  of  Amazons,  thick- 
wristed,  pink-and-blue,  began  immediately  a  swift 
chant.  It  hymned  the  total  bill-of-fare  at  a  blow. 
In  this  inexpressible  ceremony  the  name  of  ev- 
ery dish  went  hurtling  into  the  next,  telescoped 
to  shapelessness.  Moreover,  if  you  stopped  your 
Amazon  in  the  middle,  it  dislocated  her,  and  she 
merely  went  back  and  took  a  fresh  start.  The 
chant  was  always  the  same,  but  you  never  learned 
it.  As  soon  as  it  began,  your  mind  snapped  shut 
like  the  upper  berth  in  a  Pullman.  You  must 
have  uttered  appropriate  words — even  a  parrot 
will — for  next  you  were  eating  things — pie,  ham, 
hot  cakes — as  fast  as  you  could.  Twenty  minutes 
of  swallowing,  and  all  aboard  for  Ogden,  with  your 
pile-driven  stomach  dumb  with  amazement.  The 


54  LIN  MCLEAN 

Strasburg  goose  is  not  dieted  with  greater  veloc- 
ity, and  "  biscuit-shooter  "  is  a  grand  word.  Very 
likely  some  Homer  of  the  railroad  yards  first  said 
it — for  what  men  upon  the  present  earth  so  speak 
with  imagination's  tongue  as  we  Americans  ? 

If  Miss  Peck  had  been  a  biscuit  -  shooter,  I 
could  account  readily  for  her  conversation,  her 
equipped  deportment,  the  maturity  in  her  round, 
blue,  marble  eye.  Her  abrupt  laugh,  something 
beyond  gay,  was  now  sounding  in  response  to 
Mr.  McLean's  lively  sallies,  and  I  found  him  fan- 
ning her  into  convalescence  with  his  hat.  She 
herself  made  but  few  remarks,  but  allowed  the 
cow-puncher  to  entertain  her,  merely  exclaiming 
briefly  now  and  then,  "  I  declare  !"  and  "  If  you 
ain't !"  Lin  was  most  certainly  engaging,  if  that 
was  the  lady's  meaning.  His  wide  -  open  eyes 
sparkled  upon  her,  and  he  half  closed  them  now 
and  then  to  look  at  her  more  effectively.  I  sup- 
pose she  was  worth  it  to  him.  I  have  forgotten 
to  say  that  she  was  handsome  in  a  large  California- 
fruit  style.  They  made  a  good-looking  pair  of 
animals.  But  it  was  in  the  presence  of  Tommy 
that  Master  Lin  shone  more  energetically  than 
ever,  and  under  such  shining  Tommy  was  trans- 
parently restless.  He  tried,  and  failed,  to  bring 
the  conversation  his  way,  and  took  to  rearrang- 
ing the  mail  and  the  furniture. 

"  Supper's  ready,"  he  said,  at  length.  "  Come 
right  in,  Miss  Peck  ;  right  in  here.  This  is  your 
seat — this  one,  please.  Now  you  can  see  my 
fields  out  of  the  window." 

"  You  sit  here,"  said  the  biscuit-shooter  to  Lin  ; 
and  thus  she  was  between  them.  "  Them's  ele- 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         55 

gant !"  she  presently  exclaimed  to  Tommy.  "  Did 
you  cook  'em  ?" 

I  explained  that  the  apricots  were  of  my  prepa- 
ration. 

"  Indeed !"  said  she,  and  returned  to  Tommy, 
who  had  been  telling  her  of  his  ranch,  his  pota- 
toes, his  horses.  "  And  do  you  punch  cattle,  too  ?" 
she  inquired  of  him. 

"  Me  ?"  said  Tommy,  slightingly  ;  "  gave  it  up 
years  ago  ;  too  empty  a  life  for  me.  I  leave  that 
to  such  as  like  it.  When  a  man  owns  his  own 
property  " — Tommy  swept  his  hand  at  the  whole 
landscape — "  he  takes  to  more  intellectual  work." 

"  Lickin'  postage  -  stamps,"  Mr.  McLean  sug- 
gested, sourly. 

"  You  lick  them  and  I  cancel  them,"  answered 
the  postmaster  ;  and  it  does  not  seem  a  powerful 
rejoinder.  But  Miss  Peck  uttered  her  laugh. 

"  That's  one  on  you,"  she  told  Lin.  And  through- 
out this  meal  it  was  Tommy  who  had  her  favor. 
She  partook  of  his  generous  supplies  ;  she  listened 
to  his  romantic  inventions,  the  trails  he  had  dis- 
covered, the  bears  he  had  slain  ;  and  after  supper 
it  was  with  Tommy,  and  not  with  Lin,  that  she 
went  for  a  little  walk. 

"  Katie  was  ever  a  tease,"  said  Mrs.  Taylor  of 
her  childhood  friend,  and  Mr.  Taylor  observed  that 
there  was  always  safety  in  numbers.  "  She'll  get 
used  to  the  ways  of  this  country  quicker  than 
our  little  school-marm,"  said  he. 

Mr.  McLean  said  very  little,  but  read  the  new- 
arrived  papers.  It  was  only  when  bedtime  dis- 
persed us,  the  ladies  in  the  cabin  and  the  men 
choosing  various  spots  outside,  that  he  became 


56  LIN  MCLEAN 

talkative  again  for  a  while.  We  lay  in  the  blank- 
ets we  had  spread  on  some  soft,  dry  sand  in  pref- 
erence to  the  stable,  where  Taylor  and  Tommy 
had  gone.  Under  the  contemplative  influence  of 
the  stars,  Lin  fell  into  generalization. 

"  Ever  notice,"  said  he,  "  how  whiskey  and  lyin' 
act  the  same  on  a  man  ?" 

I  did  not  feel  sure  that  I  had. 

"Just  the  same  way.  You  keep  either  of  'em 
up  long  enough,  and  yu'  get  to  require  it.  If 
Tommy  didn't  lie  some  every  day,  he'd  get  sick." 

I  was  sleepy,  but  I  murmured  assent  to  this, 
and  trusted  he  would  not  go  on. 

"  Ever  notice,"  said  he,  "  how  the  victims  of 
the  whiskey  and  lyin'  habit  get  to  increasing  the 
dose?" 

"Yes,"  said  I. 

"Him  roping  six  bears!"  pursued  Mr.  McLean, 
after  further  contemplation.  "  Or  any  bear.  Ever 
notice  how  the  worser  a  man's  lyin'  the  silenter 
other  men  '11  get?  Why's  that,  now?" 

I  believe  that  I  made  a  faint  sound  to  imply 
that  I  was  following  him. 

"  Men  don't  get  took  in.  But  ladies  now, 
they—" 

Here  he  paused  again,  and  during  the  next  in- 
terval of  contemplation  I  sank  beyond  his  reach. 

In  the  morning  I  left  Riverside  for  Buffalo,  and 
there  or  thereabouts  I  remained  for  a  number  of 
weeks.  Miss  Peck  did  not  enter  my  thoughts,  nor 
did  I  meet  any  one  to  remind  me  of  her,  until  one 
day  I  stopped  at  the  drug-store.  It  was  not  for 
drugs,  but  gossip,  that  I  went.  In  the  daytime 
there  was  no  place  like  the  apothecary's  for  meet- 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         57 

ing  men  and  hearing  the  news.  There  I  heard 
how  things  were  going  everywhere,  including 
Bear  Creek. 

All  the  cow-punchers  liked  the  new  girl  up 
there,  said  gossip.  She  was  a  great  addition  to 
society.  Reported  to  be  more  companionable 
than  the  school-marm,  Miss  Molly  Wood,  who 
had  been  raised  too  far  east,  and  showed  it.  Ver- 
mont, or  some  such  dude  place.  Several  had  been 
in  town  buying  presents  for  Miss  Katie  Peck. 
Tommy  Postmaster  had  paid  high  for  a  necklace 
of  elk-tushes  the  government  scout  at  McKinney 
sold  him.  Too  bad  Miss  Peck  did  not  enjoy  good 
health.  Shorty  had  been  in  only  yesterday  to  get 
her  medicine  again.  Third  bottle.  Had  I  heard 
the  big  joke  on  Lin  McLean  ?  He  had  promised 
her  the  skin  of  a  big  bear  he  knew  the  location 
of,  and  Tommy  got  the  bear. 

Two  days  after  this  I  joined  one  of  the  round- 
up camps  at  sunset.  They  had  been  working 
from  Salt  Creek  to  Bear  Creek,  and  the  Taylor 
ranch  was  in  visiting  distance  from  them  again, 
after  an  interval  of  gathering  and  branding  far 
across  the  country.  The  Virginian,  the  gentle- 
voiced  Southerner,  whom  I  had  last  seen  lin- 
gering with  Miss  Wood,  was  in  camp.  Silent 
three  -  quarters  of  the  time,  as  was  his  way,  he 
sat  gravely  watching  Lin  McLean.  That  person 
seemed  silent  also,  as  was  not  his  way  quite  so 
much. 

"  Lin,"  said  the  Southerner,  "  I  reckon  you're 
failin'." 

Mr.  McLean  raised  a  sombre  eye,  but  did  not 
trouble  to  answer  further. 


58  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  A  healthy  man's  laigs  ought  to  fill  his  pants,'1 
pursued  the  Virginian. 

The  challenged  puncher  stretched  out  a  limb 
and  showed  his  muscles  with  young  pride. 

"And  yu'  cert'nly  take  no  comfort  in  your 
food,"  his  ingenious  friend  continued,  slowly  and 
gently. 

"  I'll  eat  you  a  match  any  day  and  place  yu' 
name,"  said  Lin. 

"  It  ain't  sca'cely  hon'able,"  went  on  the  Vir- 
ginian, "  to  waste  away  durin'  the  round-up.  A 
man  owes  his  strength  to  them  that  hires  it.  If 
he  is  paid  to  rope  stock  he  ought  to  rope  stock, 
and  not  leave  it  dodge  or  pull  away." 

"It's  not  many  dodge  my  rope,"  boasted  Lin, 
imprudently.  • 

"Why,  they  tell  me  as  how  that  heifer  of  the 
Sidney  -  Nebraska  brand  got  plumb  away  from 
yu',  and  little  Tommy  had  to  chase  afteh  her." 

Lin  sat  up  angrily  amid  the  laughter,  but  re- 
clined again.  "  I'll  improve,"  said  he,  "  if  yu'  learn 
me  how  yu'  rope  that  Vermont  stock  so  handy. 
Has  she  promised  to  be  your  sister  yet?"  he  added. 

"  Is  that  what  they  do  ?"  inquired  the  Virgin- 
ian, serenely.  "  I  have  never  got  related  that 
way.  Why,  that  '11  make  Tommy  your  brother- 
in-law,  Lin  !" 

And  now,  indeed,  the  camp  laughed  a  loud, 
merciless  laugh. 

But  Lin  was  silent.  Where  everybody  lives  in 
a  glass-house  the  victory  is  to  him  who  throws 
the  adroitest  stone.  Mr.  McLean  was  readier 
witted  than  most,  but  the  gentle,  slow  Virginian 
could  be  a  master  when  he  chose. 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         59 

"  Tommy  has  been  recountin'  his  wars  up  at 
the  Taylors',"  he  now  told  the  camp.  "  He  has 
frequently  campaigned  with  General  Crook,  Gen- 
eral Miles,  and  General  Ruger,  all  at  onced.  He's 
an  exciting  fighter,  in  conversation,  and  kep'  us 
all  scared  for  mighty  nigh  an  hour.  Miss  Peck 
appeared  interested  in  his  statements." 

"What  was  you  doing  at  the  Taylors'  your- 
self?" demanded  Lin. 

"  Visitin'  Miss  Wood,"  answered  the  Virginian, 
with  entire  ease.  For  he  also  knew  when  to  em- 
ploy the  plain  truth  as  a  bluff.  "You'd  ought  to 
write  to  Tommy's  mother,  Lin,  and  tell  her  what 
a  dare-devil  her  son  is  gettin'  to  be.  She  would 
cut  off  his  allowance  and  bring  him  home,  and 
you  would  have  the  runnin'  all  to  yourself." 

"  I'll  fix  him  yet,"  muttered  Mr.  McLean. 
"  Him  and  his  wars." 

With  that  he  rose  and  left  us. 

The  next  afternoon  he  informed  me  that  if  I 
was  riding  up  the  creek  to  spend  the  night  he 
would  go  for  company.  In  that  direction  we 
started,  therefore,  without  any  mention  of  the 
Taylors  or  Miss  Peck.  I  was  puzzled.  Never 
had  I  seen  him  thus  disconcerted  by  woman. 
With  him  woman  had  been  a  transient  disturb- 
ance. I  had  witnessed  a  series  of  flighty  ro- 
mances, where  the  cow-puncher  had  come,  seen, 
often  conquered,  and  moved  on.  Nor  had  his 
affairs  been  of  the  sort  to  teach  a  young  man 
respect.  I  am  putting  it  rather  mildly. 

For  the  first  part  of  our  way  this  afternoon  he 
was  moody,  and  after  that  began  to  speak  with 
appalling  wisdom  about  life.  Life,  he  said,  was  a 


60  LIN  MCLEAN 

serious  matter.  Did  I  realize  that  ?  A  man  was 
liable  to  forget  it.  A  man  was  liable  to  go  sport- 
ing and  helling  around  till  he  waked  up  some  day 
and  found  all  his  best  pleasures  had  become  just 
a  business.  No  interest,  no  surprise,  no  novelty 
left,  and  no  cash  in  the  bank.  Shorty  owed  him 
fifty  dollars.  Shorty  would  be  able  to  pay  that 
after  the  round-up,  and  he,  Lin,  would  get  his 
time  and  rustle  altogether  some  five  hundred 
dollars.  Then  there  was  his  homestead  claim  on 
Box  Elder,  and  the  surveyors  were  coming  in 
this  fall.  No  better  location  for  a  home  in  this 
country  than  Box  Elder.  Wood,  water,  fine  land. 
All  it  needed  was  a  house  and  ditches  and  build- 
ings and  fences,  and  to  be  planted  with  crops. 
Such  chances  and  considerations  should  sober  a 
man  and  make  him  careful  what  he  did.  "  I'd 
take  in  Cheyenne  on  our  wedding-trip,  and  after 
that  I'd  settle  right  down  to  improving  Box  El- 
der," concluded  Mr.  McLean,  suddenly. 

His  real  intentions  flashed  upon  me  for  the 
first  time.  I  had  not  remotely  imagined  such  a 
step. 

"  Marry  her  !"  I  screeched  in  dismay.  "  Marry 
her  r 

I  don't  know  which  word  was  the  worse  to 
emphasize  at  such  a  moment,  but  I  emphasized 
both  thoroughly. 

"  I  didn't  expect  yu'd  act  that  way,"  said  the 
lover.  He  dropped  behind  me  fifty  yards  and 
spoke  no  more. 

Not  at  once  did  I  beg  his  pardon  for  the  bru- 
tality I  had  been  surprised  into.  It  is  one  of 
those  speeches  that,  once  said,  is  said  forever. 


THE   WINNING    OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         6 1 

But  it  was  not  that  which  withheld  me.  As  I 
thought  of  the  tone  in  which  my  friend  had  re- 
plied, it  seemed  to  me  sullen,  rather  than  deeply 
angry  or  wounded — resentment  at  my  opinion 
not  of  her  character  so  much  as  of  his  choice ! 
Then  I  began  to  be  sorry  for  the  fool,  and 
schemed  for  a  while  how  to  intervene.  But  have 
you  ever  tried  intervention  ?  I  soon  abandoned 
the  idea,  and  took  a  way  to  be  forgiven,  and  to 
learn  more. 

"  Lin,"  I  began,  slowing  my  horse,  "  you  must 
not  think  about  what  I  said." 

"  I'm  thinkin'  of  pleasanter  subjects,"  said  he, 
and  slowed  his  own  horse. 

"  Oh,  look  here  !"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Well  ?"  said  he.  He  allowed  his  horse  to 
come  within  about  ten  yards. 

"  Astonishment  makes  a  man  say  anything,"  I 
proceeded.  "  And  I'll  say  again  you're  too  good 
for  her — and  I'll  say  I  don't  generally  believe  in 
the  wife  being  older  than  the  husband." 

"  What's  two  years  ?"  said  Lin. 

I  was  near  screeching  out  again,  but  saved 
myself.  He  was  not  quite  twenty-five,  and  I  re- 
membered Mrs.  Taylor's  unprejudiced  computa- 
tion of  the  biscuit-shooter's  years.  It  is  a  lady's 
prerogative,  however,  to  estimate  her  own  age. 

"  She  had  her  twenty-seventh  birthday  last 
month,"  said  Lin,  with  sentiment,  bringing  his 
horse  entirely  abreast  of  mine.  "  I  promised  her 
a  bear-skin." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "I  heard  about  that  in  Buffalo." 

Lin's  face  grew  dusky  with  anger.  "  No  doubt 
yu'  heard  about  it !"  said  he.  "  I  don't  guess 


62  LIN  MCLEAN 

yu'  heard  much  about  anything  else.  I  ain't 
told  the  truth  to  any  of  'em — but  her."  He 
looked  at  me  with  a  certain  hesitation.  "  I  think 
I  will,"  he  continued.  "  I  don't  mind  tellin'  you." 

He  began  to  speak  in  a  strictly  business  tone, 
while  he  evened  the  coils  of  rope  that  hung  on 
his  saddle. 

"  She  had  spoke  to  me  about  her  birthday,  and 
I  had  spoke  to  her  about  something  to  give  her. 
I  had  offered  to  buy  her  in  town  whatever  she 
named,  and  I  was  figuring  to  borrow  from  Taylor. 
But  she  fancied  the  notion  of  a  bear-skin.  I  had 
mentioned  about  some  cubs.  I  had  found  the 
cubs  where  the  she -bear  had  them  cached  by 
the  foot  of  a  big  boulder  in  the  range  over  Ten 
Sleep,  and  I  put  back  the  leaves  and  stuff  on  top 
o'  them  little  things  as  near  as  I  could  the  way  I 
found  them,  so  that  the  bear  would  not  suspicion 
me.  For  I  was  aiming  to  get  her.  And  Miss 
Peck,  she  sure  wanted  the  hide  for  her  birthday. 
So  I  went  back.  The  she  -  bear  was  off,  and  I 
clumb  up  inside  the  rock,  and  I  waited  a  turruble 
long  spell  till  the  sun  travelled  clean  around  the 
canon.  Mrs.  Bear  come  home  though,  a  big  cin- 
namon ;  and  I  raised  my  gun,  but  laid  it  down 
to  see  what  she'd  do.  She  scrapes  around  and 
snuffs,  and  the  cubs  start  whining,  and  she  talks 
back  to  'em.  Next  she  sits  up  awful  big,  and 
lifts  up  a  cub  and  holds  it  to  her  close  with  both 
her  paws,  same  as  a  person.  And  she  rubbed  her 
ear  agin  the  cub,  and  the  cub  sort  o'  nipped  her, 
and  she  cuffed  the  cub,  and  the  other  cub  came 
toddlin',  and  away  they  starts  rolling  all  three  of 
'em  !  I  watched  that  for  a  long  while.  That  big 


THE   WINNING   OP   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         63 

thing  just  nursed  and  played  with  them  little  cubs, 
beatin'  em  for  a  change  onced  in  a  while,  and 
talkin',  and  onced  in  a  while  she'd  sit  up  solemn 
and  look  all  around  so  life-like  that  I  near  busted, 
Why,  how  was  I  goin'  to  spoil  that  ?  So  I  come 
away,  very  quiet,  you  bet !  for  I'd  have  hated  to 
have  Mrs.  Bear  notice  me.  Miss  Peck,  she  laughed. 
She  claimed  I  was  scared  to  shoot." 

"After  you  had  told  her  why  it  was?"  said  I. 

"  Before  and  after.  I  didn't  tell  her  first,  because 
I  felt  kind  of  foolish.  Then  Tommy  went  and 
he  killed  the  bear  all  right,  and  she  has  the  skin 
now.  Of  course  the  boys  joshed  me  a  heap  about 
gettin'  beat  by  Tommy." 

"  But  since  she  has  taken  you  ?"  said  I. 

"  She  ain't  said  it.  But  she  will  when  she 
understands  Tommy." 

I  fancied  that  the  lady  understood.  The  once 
I  had  seen  her  she  appeared  to  me  as  what  might 
be  termed  an  expert  in  men,  and  one  to  under- 
stand also  the  reality  of  Tommy's  ranch  and  al- 
lowance, and  how  greatly  these  differed  from  Box 
Elder.  Probably  the  one  thing  she  could  not 
understand  was  why  Lin  spared  the  mother  and 
her  cubs.  A  deserted  home  in  Dubuque,  a  career 
in  a  railroad  eating-house,  a  somewhat  vague 
past,  and  a  present  lacking  context  —  indeed,  I 
hoped  with  all  my  heart  that  Tommy  would  win  ! 

"  Lin,"  said  I,  "  I'm  backing  him." 

"Back  away  !"  said  he.  "Tommy  can  please  a 
woman — him  and  his  blue  eyes  —  but  he  don't 
savvy  how  to  make  a  woman  want  him,  not  any 
better  than  he  knows  about  killin'  Injuns." 

**  Did  you  hear  about  the  Crows  ?"  said  I. 


64  LIN  MCLEAN 

"About  young  bucks  going  on  the  war-path? 
Shucks  !  That's  put  up  by  the  papers  of  this  sec- 
tion. They're  aimin'  to  get  Uncle  Sam  to  order 
his  troops  out,  and  then  folks  can  sell  hay  and 
stuff  to  'em.  If  Tommy  believed  any  Crows — " 
he  stopped,  and  suddenly  slapped  his  leg. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  I  asked. 

uOh,  nothing."  He  took  to  singing,  and  his 
face  grew  roguish  to  its  full  extent.  "  What  made 
yu'  say  that  to  me?"  he  asked,  presently. 

"  Say  what  ?" 

"About  marrying.    Yu'  don't  think  I'd  better.'' 

"  I  don't." 

"Onced  in  a  while  yu'  tell  me  I'm  flighty. 
Well,  I  am.  Whoop-ya  !" 

"  Colts  ought  not  to  marry,"  said  I. 

"  Sure  !"  said  he.  And  it  was  not  until  we  came 
in  sight  of  the  Virginian's  black  horse  tied  in 
front  of  Miss  Wood's  cabin  next  the  Taylors' 
that  Lin  changed  the  lively  course  of  thought 
that  was  evidently  filling  his  mind. 

"Tell  yu',"  said  he,  touching  my  arm  confi- 
dentially and  pointing  to  the  black  horse,  "  for  all 
her  Vermont  refinement  she's  a  woman  just  the 
same.  She  likes  him  dangling  round  her  so  ear- 
nest—  him  that  nobody  ever  saw  dangle  before. 
And  he  has  quit  spreein'  with  the  boys.  And 
what  does  he  get  by  it  ?  I  am  glad  I  was  not 
raised  good  enough  to  appreciate  the  Miss  Woods 
of  this  world,"  he  added,  defiantly — "except  at 
long  range." 

At  the  Taylors'  cabin  we  found  Miss  Wood  sit- 
ting with  her  admirer,  and  Tommy  from  River- 
side come  to  admire  Miss  Peck.  The  biscuit- 


THE    WINNING    OF    THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         65 

shooter  might  pass  for  twenty  -  seven,  certainly. 
Something  had  agreed  with  her  —  whether  the 
medicine,  or  the  mountain  air,  or  so  much  mascu- 
line company  ;  whatever  had  done  it,  she  had 
bloomed  into  brutal  comeliness.  Her  hair  looked 
curlier,  her  figure  was  shapelier,  her  teeth  shone 
whiter,  and  her  cheeks  were  a  lusty,  overbearing 
red.  And  there  sat  Molly  Wood  talking  sweetly 
to  her  big,  grave  Virginian  ;  to  look  at  them,  there 
was  no  doubt  that  he  had  been  "raised  good 
enough  "  to  appreciate  her,  no  matter  what  had 
been  his  raising ! 

Lin  greeted  every  one  jauntily.  "  How  are  yu', 
Miss  Peck  ?  How  are  yu',  Tommy  ?"  said  he. 
"  Hear  the  news,  Tommy  ?  Crow  Injuns  on  the 
war-path." 

"I  declare  !"  said  the  biscuit-shooter. 

The  Virginian  was  about  to  say  something,  but 
his  eye  met  Lin's,  and  then  he  looked  at  Tommy. 
Then  what  he  did  say  was,  "  I  hadn't  been  goin' 
to  mention  it  to  the  ladies  until  it  was  right 
sure." 

"You  needn't  to  be  afraid,  Miss  Peck,"  said 
Tommy.  "  There's  lots  of  men  here." 

"  Who's  afraid  ?"  said  the  biscuit-shooter. 

"  Oh,"  said  Lin,  "  maybe  it's  like  most  news  we 
get  in  this  country.  Two  weeks  stale  and  a  lie 
when  it  was  fresh." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Tommy. 

"  Hello,  Tommy  !"  called  Taylor  from  the  lane. 
"  Your  horse  has  broke  his  rein  and  run  down  the 
field." 

Tommy  rose  in  disgust  and  sped  after  the  ani- 
mal. 

5 


66  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  I  must  be  cooking  supper  now,"  said  Katie, 
shortly. 

"  I'll  stir  for  yu',"  said  Lin,  grinning  at  her. 

"  Come  along  then,"  said  she  ;  and  they  depart- 
ed to  the  adjacent  kitchen. 

Miss  Wood's  gray  eyes  brightened  with  mis- 
chief. She  looked  at  her  Virginian,  and  she 
looked  at  me. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  I  used  to  be  so  afraid 
that  when  Bear  Creek  wasn't  new  any  more  it 
might  become  dull !" 

"  Miss  Peck  doesn't  find  it  dull  either,"  said  I. 

Molly  Wood  immediately  assumed  a  look  of 
doubt.  "  But  mightn't  it  become  just — just  a  lit- 
tle trying  to  have  two  gentlemen  so  very — deter- 
mined, you  know  ?" 

"  Only  one  is  determined,"  said  the  Virginian. 

Molly  looked  inquiring. 

"  Lin  is  determined  Tommy  shall  not  beat  him. 
That's  all  it  amounts  to." 

"  Dear  me,  what  a  notion  !" 

"  No,  ma'am,  no  notion.  Tommy — well,  Tom- 
my is  considered  harmless,  ma'am.  A  cow-punch- 
er of  reputation  in  this  country  would  cert'n- 
ly  never  let  Tommy  get  ahaid  of  him  that 
way." 

"  It's  pleasant  to  know  sometimes  how  much  we 
count !"  exclaimed  Molly. 

"Why,  ma'am,"  said  the  Virginian,  surprised  at 
her  flash  of  indignation,  "  where  is  any  countin' 
without  some  love  ?" 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Mr.  McLean  does 
not  care  for  Miss  Peck  ?" 

"  I  reckon  he  thinks  he  does.     But  there  is  a 


THE   WINNING   OP   THE   BISCUIT-SHOOTER         67 

mighty  wide  difference  between  thinkin'  and  feel- 
in',  ma'am." 

I  saw  Molly's  eyes  drop  from  his,  and  I  saw  the 
rose  deepen  in  her  cheeks.  But  just  then  a  loud 
voice  came  from  the  kitchen. 

"  You,  Lin,  if  you  try  any  of  your  foolin'  with 
me,  I'll  histe  yu's  over  the  jiste  !" 

"  All  cow-punchers — "  I  attempted  to  resume. 

"  Quit  now,  Lin  McLean,"  shouted  the  voice, 
"or  I'll  put  yus  through  that  window,  and  it 
shut." 

"  Well,  Miss  Peck,  I'm  gettin'  most  a  full  dose 
o'  this  treatment.  Ever  since  yu'  come  I've  been 
doing  my  best.  And  yu'  just  cough  in  my  face. 
And  now  I'm  going  to  quit  and  cough  back." 

"Would  you  enjoy  walkin'  out  till  supper, 
ma'am?"  inquired  the  Virginian  as  Molly  rose. 
"You  was  speaking  of  gathering  some  flowers 
yondeh." 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Molly,  blithely.  "  And  you'll 
come  ?"  she  added  to  me. 

But  I  was  on  the  Virginian's  side.  "I  must 
look  after  my  horse,"  said  I,  and  went  down  to  the 
corral. 

Day  was  slowly  going  as  I  took  my  pony  to  the 
water.  Corncliff  Mesa,  Crowheart  Butte,  these 
shone  in  the  rays  that  came  through  the  canon. 
The  canon's  sides  lifted  like  tawny  castles  in  the 
same  light.  Where  I  walked  the  odor  of  thou- 
sands of  wild  roses  hung  over  the  margin  where 
the  thickets  grew.  High  in  the  upper  air,  mag- 
pies were  sailing  across  the  silent  blue.  Some- 
where I  could  hear  Tommy  explaining  loudly 
how  he  and  General  Crook  had  pumped  lead  into 


68  LIN  MCLEAN 

hundreds  of  Indians ;  and  when  supper  -  time 
brought  us  all  back  to  the  door  he  was  finishing 
the  account  to  Mrs.  Taylor.  Molly  and  the  Vir- 
ginian arrived  bearing  flowers,  and  he  was  saying 
that  few  cow-punchers  had  any  reason  for  saving 
their  money. 

"  But  when  you  get  old  ?"  said  she. 

"  We  mostly  don't  live  long  enough  to  get  old, 
ma'am,"  said  he,  simply.  "  But  I  have  a  reason, 
and  I  am  saving." 

"  Give  me  the  flowers,"  said  Molly.  And  she 
left  him  to  arrange  them  on  the  table  as  Lin 
came  hurrying  out. 

"  I've  told  her,"  said  he  to  the  Southerner  and 
me,  "  that  I've  asked  her  twiced,  and  I'm  going  to 
let  her  have  one  more  chance.  And  I've  told 
her  that  if  it's  a  log  cabin  she's  marryin',  why 
Tommy  is  a  sure  good  wooden  piece  of  furniture 
to  put  inside  it.  And  I  guess  she  knows  there's 
not  much  wooden  furniture  about  me.  I  want  to 
speak  to  you."  He  took  the  Virginian  round  the 
corner.  But  though  he  would  not  confide  in 
me,  I  began  to  discern  something  quite  definite 
at  supper. 

"  Cattle  men  will  lose  stock  if  the  Crows  get 
down  as  far  as  this,"  he  said,  casually,  and  Mrs. 
Taylor  suppressed  a  titter. 

"Ain't  it  hawses  the're  repawted  as  running 
off  ?"  said  the  Virginian. 

"  Chap  come  into  the  round-up  this  afternoon," 
said  Lin.  "  But  he  was  rattled,  and  told  a  heap 
o'  facts  that  wouldn't  square." 

"Of  course  they  wouldn't,"  said  Tommy, 
haughtily. 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         69 

"  Oh,  there's  nothing  in  it,"  said  Lin,  dismiss- 
ing the  subject. 

"  Have  yu'  been  to  the  opera  since  we  went  to 
Cheyenne,  Mrs.  Taylor  ?" 

Mrs.  Taylor  had  not. 

"  Lin,"  said  the  Virginian,  "  did  yu'  ever  see 
that  opera  'Cyarmen  '  ?" 

"You  bet.  Fellow's  girl  quits  him  for  a  bull- 
fighter. Gets  him  up  in  the  mountains,  and  quits 
him.  He  wasn't  much  good — not  in  her  class  o' 
sports,  smugglin'  and  such." 

"I  reckon  she  was  doubtful  of  him  from  the 
start.  Took  him  to  the  mount'ins  to  experiment, 
where  they'd  not  have  interruption,"  said  the 
Virginian. 

"Talking  of  mountains,"  said  Tommy,  "this 
range  here  used  to  be  a  great  place  for  Indians 
till  we  ran  'em  out  with  Terry.  Pumped  lead 
into  the  red  sons-of-guns." 

"  You  bet,"  said  Lin.  "  Do  yu'  figure  that  girl 
tired  of  her  bull-fighter  and  quit  him,  too  ?" 

"I  reckon,"  replied  the  Virginian,  "that  the 
bull-fighter  wore  better." 

"  Fans  and  taverns  and  gypsies  and  sportin'," 
said  Lin.  "  My  !  but  I'd  like  to  see  them  coun- 
tries with  oranges  and  bull-fights!  Only  I  ex- 
pect Spain,  maybe,  ain't  keepin'  it  up  so  gay  as 
when  *  Carmen  '  happened." 

The  table-talk  soon  left  romance  and  turned 
upon  steers  and  alfalfa,  a  grass  but  lately  intro- 
duced in  the  country.  No  further  mention  was 
made  of  the  hostile  Crows,  and  from  this  I  drew 
the  false  conclusion  that  Tommy  had  not  come 
up  to  their  hopes  in  the  matter  of  reciting  his 


yo  LIN  MCLEAN 

campaigns.  But  when  the  hour  came  for  those 
visitors  who  were  not  spending  the  night  to  take 
their  leave,  Taylor  drew  Tommy  aside  with  me, 
and  I  noticed  the  Virginian  speaking  with  Molly 
Wood,  whose  face  showed  diversion. 

"  Don't  seem  to  make  anything  of  it,"  whisper- 
ed Taylor  to  Tommy,  "  but  the  ladies  have  got 
their  minds  on  this  Indian  truck." 

"  Why,  I'll  just  explain — "  began  Tommy. 

"  Don't,"  whispered  Lin,  joining  us.  "  Yu'  know 
how  women  are.  Once  they  take  a  notion,  why, 
the  more  yu'  deny  the  surer  they  get.  Now,  yu' 
see,  him  and  me  "  (he  jerked  his  elbow  towards 
the  Virginian)  "  must  go  back  to  camp,  for  we're 
on  second  relief." 

"And  the  ladies  would  sleep  better  knowing 
there  was  another  man  in  the  house,"  said 
Taylor. 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Tommy,  "  I — " 

"  Yu'  see,"  said  Lin,  "  they've  been  told  about 
Ten  Sleep  being  burned  two  nights  ago." 

"It  'ain't!"  cried  Tommy. 

"  Why,  of  course  it  'ain't,"  drawled  the  inge- 
nious Lin.  u  But  that's  what  I  say.  You  and  I 
know  Ten  Sleep's  all  right,  but  we  can't  report 
from  our  own  knowledge  seeing  it  all  right,  and 
there  it  is.  They  get  these  nervous  notions." 

"  Just  don't  appear  to  make  anything  special  of 
not  going  back  to  Riverside,"  repeated  Taylor, 
"  but—" 

"  But  just  kind  of  stay  here,"  said  Lin. 

"  I  will !"  exclaimed  Tommy.  "  Of  course,  I'm 
glad  to  oblige." 

I  suppose  I  was  slow-sighted.     All  this  pains 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         71 

seemed  to  me  larger  than  its  results.  They  had 
imposed  upon  Tommy,  yes.  But  what  of  that? 
He  was  to  be  kept  from  going  back  to  Riverside 
until  morning.  Unless  they  proposed  to  visit  his 
empty  cabin  and  play  tricks — but  that  would  be 
too  childish,  even  for  Lin  McLean,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  Virginian,  his  occasional  partner  in  mis- 
chief. 

"  In  spite  of  the  Crows,"  I  satirically  told  the 
ladies,  "  I  shall  sleep  outside,  as  I  intended.  I've 
no  use  for  houses  at  this  season." 

The  cinches  of  the  horses  were  tightened,  Lin 
and  the  Virginian  laid  a  hand  on  their  saddle- 
horns,  swung  up,  and  soon  all  sound  of  the  gal- 
loping horses  had  ceased.  Molly  Wood  declined 
to  be  nervous,  and  crossed  to  her  little  neighbor 
cabin ;  we  all  parted,  and  (as  always  in  that 
blessed  country)  deep  sleep  quickly  came  to 
me. 

I  don't  know  how  long  after  it  was  that  I 
sprang  from  my  blankets  in  half-doubting  fright. 
But  I  had  dreamed  nothing.  A  second  long,  wild 
yell  now  gave  me  (I  must  own  to  it)  a  horrible 
chill.  I  had  no  pistol — nothing.  In  the  hateful 
brightness  of  the  moon  my  single  thought  was 
"  House  !  House  !"  and  I  fled  across  the  lane  in 
my  underclothes  to  the  cabin,  when  round  the 
corner  whirled  the  two  cow-punchers,  and  I  un- 
derstood. I  saw  the  Virginian  catch  sight  of  me 
in  my  shirt,  and  saw  his  teeth  as  he  smiled.  I 
hastened  to  my  blankets,  and  returned  more  de- 
cent to  stand  and  watch  the  two  go  shooting  and 
yelling  round  the  cabin,  crazy  with  their  youth. 
The  door  was  opened,  and  Taylor  courageously 


72  LIN  MCLEAN 

emerged,  bearing  a  Winchester.  He  fired  at  the 
sky  immediately. 

"  B'  gosh  !"  he  roared.  "  That's  one."  He  fired 
again.  "  Out  and  at  'em.  They're  running." 

At  this,  duly  came  Mrs.  Taylor  in  white  with  a 
pistol,  and  Miss  Peck  in  white,  staring  and  stolid. 
But  no  Tommy.  Noise  prevailed  without,  shots 
by  the  stable  and  shots  by  the  creek.  The  two 
cow  -  punchers  dismounted  and  joined  Taylor. 
Maniac  delight  seized  me,  and  I,  too,  rushed  about 
with  them,  helping  the  din. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Taylor!"  said  a  voice.  "  I  didn't  think 
it  of  you."  It  was  Molly  Wood,  come  from  her 
cabin,  very  pretty  in  a  hood-and-cloak  arrange- 
ment. She  stood  by  the  fence,  laughing,  but 
more  at  us  than  with  us. 

"  Stop,  friends  !"  said  Taylor,  gasping.  "  She 
teaches  my  Bobbie  his  ABC.  I'd  hate  to  have 
Bobbie — " 

"  Speak  to  your  papa,"  said  Molly,  and  held  her 
scholar  up  on  the  fence. 

"Well,  I'll  be  gol-darned,"  said  Taylor,  survey- 
ing his  costume,  "if  Lin  McLean  hasn't  made  a 
fool  of  me  to-night !" 

"  Where  has  Tommy  got  ?"  said  Mrs.  Taylor. 

"Didn't  yus  see  him?"  said  the  biscuit-shooter, 
speaking  her  first  word  in  all  this. 

We  followed  her  into  the  kitchen.  The  table 
was  covered  with  tin  plates.  Beneath  it,  wedged, 
knelt  Tommy  with  a  pistol  firm  in  his  hand  ;  but 
the  plates  were  rattling  up  and  down  like  casta- 
nets. 

There  was  a  silence  among  us,  and  I  wondered 
what  we  were  going  to  do. 


THE    WINNING    OP   THE    BISCUIT-SHOOTER         73 

"Well,"  murmured  the  Virginian  to  himself, 
"if  I  could  have  foresaw,  I'd  not — it  makes  yu' 
feel  humiliated  yu'self." 

He  marched  out,  got  on  his  horse,  and  rode 
away.  Lin  followed  him,  but  perhaps  less  peni- 
tently. We  all  dispersed  without  saying  any- 
thing, and  presently  from  my  blankets  I  saw 
poor  Tommy  come  out  of  the  silent  cabin,  mount, 
and  slowly,  very  slowly,  ride  away.  He  would 
spend  the  night  at  Riverside,  after  all. 

Of  course  we  recovered  from  our  unexpected 
shame,  and  the  tale  of  the  table  and  the  dancing 
plates  was  not  told  as  a  sad  one.  But  it  is  a  sad 
one  when  you  think  of  it. 

I  was  not  there  to  see  Lin  get  his  bride.  I 
learned  from  the  Virginian  how  the  victorious 
puncher  had  ridden  away  across  the  sunny  sage- 
brush, bearing  the  biscuit-shooter  with  him  to  the 
nearest  justice  of  the  peace.  She  was  astride  the 
horse  he  had  brought  for  her. 

"Yes,  he  beat  Tommy,"  said  the  Virginian. 
"  Some  folks,  anyway,  get  what  they  want  in  this 
hyeh  world." 

From  which  I  inferred  that  Miss  Molly  Wood 
was  harder  to  beat  than  Tommy. 


LIN   McLEAN'S   HONEY-MOON 

RAIN  had  not  fallen  for  some  sixty  days,  and 
for  some  sixty  more  there  was  no  necessity  that 
it  should  fall.  It  is  spells  of  weather  like  this 
that  set  the  Western  editor  writing  praise  and 
prophecy  of  the  boundless  fertility  of  the  soil — 
when  irrigated,  and  of  what  an  Eden  it  can  be 
made — with  irrigation  ;  but  the  spells  annoy  the 
people  who  are  trying  to  raise  the  Eden.  We  al- 
ways told  the  transient  Eastern  visitor,  when  he 
arrived  at  Cheyenne  and  criticised  the  desert,  that 
anything  would  grow  here— with  irrigation  ;  and 
sometimes  he  replied,  unsympathetically,  that 
anything  could  fly — with  wings.  Then  we  would 
lead  such  a  man  out  and  show  him  six,  eight,  ten 
square  miles  of  green  crops  ;  and  he,  if  he  was 
thoroughly  nasty,  would  mention  that  Wyoming 
contained  ninety-five  thousand  square  miles,  all 
waiting  for  irrigation  and  Eden.  One  of  these 
Eastern  supercivilized  hostiles  from  New  York 
was  breakfasting  with  the  Governor  and  me  at 
the  Cheyenne  Club,  and  we  were  explaining  to 
him  the  glorious  future,  the  coming  empire,  of 
the  Western  country.  Now  the  Governor  was 
about  thirty-two,  and  until  twenty-five  had  never 
gone  West  far  enough  to  see  over  the  top  of  the 
Alleghany  Mountains.  I  was  not  a  pioneer  my- 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  75 

self ;  and  why  both  of  us  should  have  pitied  the 
New-Yorker's  narrowness  so  hard  I  cannot  see. 
But  we  did.  We  spoke  to  him  of  the  size  of  the 
country.  We  told  him  that  his  State  could  rattle 
round  inside  Wyoming's  stomach  without  any  in- 
convenience to  Wyoming,  and  he  told  us  that  this 
was  because  Wyoming's  stomach  was  empty.  Al- 
together I  began  to  feel  almost  sorry  that  I  had 
asked  him  to  come  out  for  a  hunt,  and  had  trav- 
elled in  haste  all  the  way  from  Bear  Creek  to 
Cheyenne  expressly  to  meet  him. 

"  For  purposes  of  amusement,"  he  said,  **  I'll 
admit  anything  you  claim  for  this  place.  Ranches, 
cowboys,  elk  ;  it's  all  splendid.  Only,  as  an  in- 
vestment I  prefer  the  East.  Am  I  to  see  any 
cowboys  ?" 

"  You  shall,"  I  said  ;  and  I  distinctly  hoped 
some  of  them  might  do  something  to  him  "  for 
purposes  of  amusement." 

"  You  fellows  come  up  with  me  to  my  office," 
said  the  Governor.  "  I'll  look  at  my  mail,  and 
show  you  round."  So  we  went  with  him  through 
the  heat  and  sun. 

"What's  that?"  inquired  the  New-Yorker, 
whom  I  shall  call  James  Ogden. 

"That  is  our  park,"  said  I.  "Of  course  it's 
merely  in  embryo.  It's  wonderful  how  quickly 
any  shade  tree  will  grow  here  wi — "  I  checked 
myself. 

But  Ogden  said  "  with  irrigation  "  for  me,  and 
I  was  entirely  sorry  he  had  come. 

We  reached  the  Governor's  office,  and  sat  down 
while  he  looked  his  letters  over. 

"  Here  you  are,  Ogden,"  said  he.     "  Here's  the 


7  6  LIN  MCLEAN 

way  we  hump  ahead  out  here."     And  he  read  us 
the  following  : 

"  MAGAW,  KANSAS,/^  5,  188— . 
" Hon.  Amory  IV.  Barker: 

"  SIR, — Understanding  that  your  district  is  suffering  from  a 
prolonged  drought,  I  wrjte  to  say  that  for  necessary  expenses 
paid  I  will  be  glad  to  furnish  you  with  a  reasonable  shower.  I 
have  operated  successfully  in  Australia,  Mexico,  and  several 
States  of  the  Union,  and  am  anxious  to  exhibit  my  system.  If 
your  Legislature  will  appropriate  a  sum  to  cover,  as  I  said, 
merely  my  necessary  expenses — Say  $350  (three  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars) — for  half  an  inch,  I  will  guarantee  you  that  quanti- 
ty of  rain  or  forfeit  the  money.  If  I  fail  to  give  you  the  smallest 
fraction  of  the  amount  contracted  for,  there  is  to  be  no  pay. 
Kindly  advise  me  of  what  date  will  be  most  convenient  for  you 
to  have  the  shower.  I  require  twenty-four  hours'  preparation. 
Hoping  a  favorable  reply, 

"  I  am,  respectfully  yours, 

"  ROBERT  HILBRUN." 

"Will  the  Legislature  do  it?"  inquired  Ogden, 
in  good  faith. 

The  Governor  laughed  boisterously.  "  I  guess 
it  wouldn't  be  constitutional,"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  bother  !"  said  Ogden. 

"  My  dear  man,"  the  Governor  protested,  "  I 
know  we're  new,  and  our  women  vote,  and  we're 
a  good  deal  of  a  joke,  but  we're  not  so  progressive- 
ly funny  as  all  that.  The  people  wouldn't  stand 
it.  Senator  Warren  would  fly  right  into  my  back 
hair."  Barker  was  also  new  as  Governor. 

"  Do  you  have  Senators  here  too  ?"  said  Ogden, 
raising  his  eyebrows.  "  What  do  they  look  like  ? 
Are  they  females  ?"  And  the  Governor  grew 
more  boisterous  than  ever,  slapping  his  knee  and 
declaring  that  these  Eastern  men  were  certainly 
"  out  of  sight."  Ogden,  however,  was  thoughtful. 


LIN    McLEAN  S   HONEY-MOON  77 

"  I'd  have,  been  willing  to  chip  in  for  that  rain 
myself,"  he  said. 

"  That's  an  idea  !"  cried  the  Governor.  "  Noth- 
ing unconstitutional  about  that.  Let's  see.  Three 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars — " 

"  I'll  put  up  a  hundred,"  said  Ogden,  promptly. 
"  I'm  out  for  a  Western  vacation,  and  I'll  pay  for 
a  good  specimen." 

The  Governor  and  I  subscribed  more  modestly, 
and  by  noon,  with  the  help  of  some  lively  minded 
gentlemen  of  Cheyenne,  we  had  the  purse  raised. 
"  He  won't  care,"  said  the  Governor,  "  whether  it's 
a  private  enterprise  or  a  municipal  step,  so  long 
as  he  gets  his  money." 

"  He  won't  get  it,  I'm  afraid,"  said  Ogden. 
"But  if  he  succeeds  in  tempting  Providence  to 
that  extent,  I  consider  it  cheap.  Now  what  do 
you  call  those  people  there  on  the  horses  ?" 

We  were  walking  along  the  track  of  the  Chey- 
enne and  Northern,  and  looking  out  over  the  plain 
toward  Fort  Russell.  "  That  is  a  cow-puncher 
and  his  bride,"  I  answered,  recognizing  the  couple. 

"  Real  cow-puncher  ?" 

"  Quite.     The  puncher's  name  is  Lin  McLean." 

"  Real  bride  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid  so." 

"  She's  riding  straddle  !"  exclaimed  the  delight- 
ed Ogden,  adjusting  his  glasses.  "  Why  do  you 
object  to  their  union  being  holy  ?" 

I  explained  that  my  friend  Lin  had  lately  mar- 
ried an  eating-house  lady  precipitately  and  against 
my  advice. 

"  I  suppose  he  knew  his  business,"  observed 
Ogden. 


78  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  That's  what  he  said  to  me  at  the  time.  But 
you  ought  to  see  her — and  know  him." 

Ogden  was  going  to.  Husband  and  wife  were 
coming  our  way.  Husband  nodded  to  me  his 
familiar  offish  nod,  which  concealed  his  satisfac- 
tion at  meeting  with  an  old  friend.  Wife  did  not 
look  at  me  at  all.  But  I  looked  at  her,  and  I  in- 
stantly knew  that  Lin — the  fool ! — had  confided  to 
her  my  disapproval  of  their  marriage.  The  most 
delicate  specialty  upon  earth  is  your  standing 
with  your  old  friend's  new  wife. 

"  Good-day,  Mr.  McLean,"  said  the  Governor  to 
the  cow-puncher  on  his  horse. 

"  How  are  yu',  doctor,"  said  Lin.  During  his 
early  days  in  Wyoming  the  Governor,  when  as 
yet  a  private  citizen,  had  set  Mr.  McLean's  bro- 
ken leg  at  Drybone.  "  Let  me  make  yu'  known  to 
Mrs.  McLean,"  pursued  the  husband. 

The  lady,  at  a  loss  how  convention  prescribes 
the  greeting  of  a  bride  to  a  Governor,  gave  a  wad- 
dle on  the  pony's  back,  then  sat  up  stiff,  gazed 
haughtily  at  the  air,  and  did  not  speak  or  show 
any  more  sign  than  a  cow  would  under  like  cir- 
cumstances. So  the  Governor  marched  cheerful- 
ly at  her,  extending  his  hand,  and  when  she  slight- 
ly moved  out  toward  him  her  big,  dumb,  red  fist, 
he  took  it  and  shook  it,  and  made  her  a  series  of 
compliments,  she  maintaining  always  the  scrupu- 
lous reserve  of  the  cow. 

"  I  say,"  Ogden  whispered  to  me  while  Barker 
was  pumping  the  hand  of  the  flesh  image,  "  I'm 
glad  I  came."  The  appearance  of  the  puncher- 
bridegroom  also  interested  Ogden,  and  he  looked 
hard  at  Lin's  leather  chaps  and  cartridge-belt  and 


LIN  MCLEAN  s  HONEY-MOON  79 

so  forth.  Lin  stared  at  the  New-Yorker,  and  his 
high  white  collar  and  good  scarf.  He  had  seen 
such  things  quite  often,  of  course,  but  they  al- 
ways filled  him  with  the  same  distrust  of  the  man 
that  wore  them. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  guess  we'll  be  pulling  for 
a  hotel.  Any  show  in  town?  Circus  come 
yet  ?" 

"  No,"  said  I.  "  Are  you  going  to  make  a  long 
stay  ?" 

The  cow-puncher  glanced  at  the  image,  his 
bride  of  three  weeks.  "  Till  we're  tired  of  it,  I 
guess,"  said  he,  with  hesitation.  It  was  the  first 
time  that  I  had  ever  seen  my  gay  friend  look  tim- 
idly at  any  one,  and  I  felt  a  rising  hate  for  the 
ruby-cheeked,  large-eyed  eating-house  lady,  the 
biscuit-shooter  whose  influence  was  dimming  this 
jaunty,  irrepressible  spirit.  I  looked  at  her.  Her 
bulky  bloom  had  ensnared  him,  and  now  she  was 
going  to  tame  and  spoil  him.  The  Governor  was 
looking  at  her  too,  thoughtfully. 

"  Say,  Lin,"  I  said,  "  if  you  stay  here  long 
enough  you'll  see  a  big  show."  And  his  eye  li- 
vened into  something  of  its  native  jocularity  as  I 
told  him  of  the  rain-maker. 

"  Shucks  !"  said  he,  springing  from  his  horse 
impetuously,  and  hugely  entertained  at  our  vent- 
ure. "  Three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  ?  Let  me 
come  in  "  ;  and  before  I  could  tell  him  that  we 
had  all  the  money  raised,  he  was  hauling  out  a 
wadded  lump  of  bills. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  going  to  starve  here  in  the  road, 
I  guess,"  spoke  the  image,  with  the  suddenness 
of  a  miracle.  I  think  we  all  jumped,  and  I  know 


8o  LIN  MCLEAN 

that  Lin  did.  The  image  continued :  "  Some 
folks  and  their  money  are  soon  parted  "  —  she 
meant  me  ;  her  searching  tones  came  straight  at 
me  ;  I  was  sure  from  the  first  that  she  knew  all 
about  me  and  my  unfavorable  opinion  of  her — 
"  but  it  ain't  going  to  be  you  this  time,  Lin  Mc- 
Lean. Ged  ap  /"  This  last  was  to  the  horse,  I 
maintain,  though  the  Governor  says  the  husband 
immediately  started  off  on  a  run. 

At  any  rate,  they  were  gone  to  their  hotel,  and 
Ogden  was  seated  on  some  railroad  ties,  exclaim- 
ing :  "  Oh,  I  like  Wyoming  !  I  am  certainly  glad 
I  came." 

u That's  who  she  is!"  said  the  Governor,  re- 
membering Mrs.  McLean  all  at  once.  "I  know 
her.  She  used  to  be  at  Sidney.  She's  got  an- 
other husband  somewhere.  She's  one  of  the 
boys.  Oh,  that's  nothing  in  this  country  !"  he 
continued  to  the  amazed  Ogden,  who  had  ejacu- 
lated "  Bigamy  !"  "  Lots  of  them  marry,  live  to- 
gether awhile,  get  tired  and  quit,  travel,  catch 
on  to  a  new  man,  marry  him,  get  tired  and  quit, 
travel,  catch  on — " 

"  One  moment,  I  beg,"  said  Ogden,  adjusting 
his  glasses.  "  What  does  the  law — " 

"Law?"  said  the  Governor.  "Look  at  that 
place  !"  He  swept  his  hand  towards  the  vast 
plains  and  the  mountains.  "  Ninety  -  five  thou- 
sand square  miles  of  that,  and  sixty  thousand 
people  in  it.  We  haven't  got  policemen  yet  on 
top  of  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

" I  see,"  said  the  New-Yorker.  " But  — but  — 
well,  let  A  and  B  represent  first  and  second  hus- 
bands, and  X  represent  the  woman.  Now,  does 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  81 

A  know  about  B  ?  or  does  B  know  about  A  ?  And 
what  do  they  do  about  it  ?" 

"Can't  say,"  the  Governor  answered,  jovially. 
"  Can't  generalize.  Depends  on  heaps  of  things — 
love — money —  Did  you  go  to  college?  Well, 
let  A  minus  X  equal  B  plus  X,  then  if  A  and  B 
get  squared — " 

"  Oh,  come  to  lunch,"  I  said.  "  Barker,  do  you 
really  know  the  first  husband  is  alive?" 

"  Wasn't  dead  last  winter."  And  Barker  gave 
us  the  particulars.  Miss  Katie  Peck  had  not 
served  long  in  the  restaurant  before  she  was 
wooed  and  won  by  a  man  who  had  been  a  ranch 
cook,  a  sheep-herder,  a  bar-tender,  a  freight  hand, 
and  was  then  hauling  poles  for  the  government. 
During  his  necessary  absences  from  home  she, 
too,  went  out-of-doors.  This  he  often  discovered, 
and  would  beat  her,  and  she  would  then  also  beat 
him.  After  the  beatings  one  of  them  would  al- 
ways leave  the  other  forever.  Thus  was  Sidney 
kept  in  small-talk  until  Mrs.  Lusk  one  day  really 
did  not  come  back.  "  Lusk,"  said  the  Governor, 
finishing  his  story,  "cried  around  the  saloons 
for  a  couple  of  days,  and  then  went  on  haul- 
ing poles  for  the  government,  till  at  last  he 
said  he'd  heard  of  a  better  job  south,  and  next 
we  knew  of  him  he  was  round  Leavenworth. 
Lusk  was  a  pretty  poor  bird.  Owes  me  ten  dol- 
lars." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "none  of  us  ever  knew  about 
him  when  she  came  to  stay  with  Mrs.  Taylor  .on 
Bear  Creek.  She  was  Miss  Peck  when  Lin  made 
her  Mrs.  McLean." 

"You'll  notice,"  said  the  Governor,  "how  she 

6 


82  LIN   McLEAN 

has  got  him  under  in  three  weeks.  Old  hand, 
you  see." 

"  Poor  Lin  !"  I  said. 

"  Lucky,  I  call  him,"  said  the  Governor.  "  He 
can  quit  her." 

"  Supposing  McLean  does  not  want  to  quit 
her?" 

"  She's  educating  him  to  want  to  right  now, 
and  I  think  he'll  learn  pretty  quick.  I  guess  Mr. 
Lin's  romance  wasn't  very  ideal  this  trip.  Hel- 
lo !  here  comes  Jode.  Jode,  won't  you  lunch  with 
us  ?  Mr.  Ogden,  of  New  York,  Mr.  Jode.  Mr. 
Jode  is  our  signal  -  service  officer,  Mr.  Ogden." 
The  Governor's  eyes  were  sparkling  hilariously, 
and  he  winked  at  me. 

"  Gentlemen,  good-morning.  Mr.  Ogden,  I  am 
honored  to  make  your  acquaintance,"  said  the 
signal-service  officer. 

"  Jode,  when  is  it  going  to  rain  ?"  said  the  Gov- 
ernor, anxiously. 

Now  Jode  is  the  most  extraordinarily  solemn 
man  I  have  ever  known.  He  has  the  solemnity 
of  all  science,  added  to  the  unspeakable  weight 
of  representing  five  of  the  oldest  families  in 
South  Carolina.  The  Jodes  themselves  were  not 
old  in  South  Carolina,  but  immensely  so  in  —  I 
think  he  told  me  it  was  Long  Island.  His  name 
is  Poinsett  Middleton  Manigault  Jode.  He  used 
to  weigh  a  hundred  and  twenty -eight  pounds 
then,  but  his  health  has  strengthened  in  that 
climate.  His  clothes  were  black  ;  his  face  was 
white,  with  black  eyes  sharp  as  a  pin  ;  he  had  the 
shape  of  a  spout  —  the  same  narrow  size  all  the 
way  down — and  his  voice  was  as  dry  and  light  as 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  83 

an  egg-shell.  In  his  first  days  at  Cheyenne  he 
had  constantly  challenged  large  cowboys  for  tak- 
ing familiarities  with  his  dignity,  and  they,  after 
one  moment's  bewilderment,  had  concocted  apol- 
ogies that  entirely  met  his  exactions,  and  gave 
them  much  satisfaction  also.  Nobody  would 
have  hurt  Jode  for  the  world.  In  time  he  came 
to  see  that  Wyoming  was  a  game  invented  after 
his  book  of  rules  was  published,  and  he  looked 
on,  but  could  not  play  the  game.  He  had  fallen, 
along  with  other  incongruities,  into  the  roaring 
Western  hotch-pot,  and  he  passed  his  careful,  pre- 
cise days  with  barometers  and  weather-charts. 

He  answered  the  Governor  with  official  and 
South  Carolina  impressiveness.  "  There  is  no  in- 
dication of  diminution  of  the  prevailing  press- 
ure," he  said. 

"  Well,  that's  what  I  thought,"  said  the  joyous 
Governor,  "so  I'm  going  to  whoop  her  up." 

"  What  do  you  expect  to  whoop  up,  sir  ?" 

"  Atmosphere,  and  all  that,"  said  the  Governor. 
"  Whole  business  has  got  to  get  a  move  on.  I've 
sent  for  a  rain-maker." 

"  Governor,  you  are  certainly  a  wag,  sir,"  said 
Jode,  who  enjoyed  Barker  as  some  people  enjoy 
a  symphony,  without  understanding  it.  But  after 
we  had  reached  the  club  and  were  lunching,  and 
Jode  realized  that  a  letter  had  actually  been  writ- 
ten telling  Hilbrun  to  come  and  bring  his  showers 
with  him,  the  punctilious  signal  -  service  officer 
stated  his  position.  "  Have  your  joke,  sir,"  he 
said,  waving  a  thin,  clean  hand,  "  but  I  decline  to 
meet  him." 

"  Hilbrun  ?"  said  the  Governor,  staring. 


84  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  If  that's  his  name — yes,  sir.  As  a  member  of 
the  Weather  Bureau  and  the  Meteorological  So- 
ciety I  can  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  fellow." 

"  Glory  !"  said  the  Governor.  "  Well,  I  suppose 
not.  I  see  your  point,  Jode.  I'll  be  careful  to 
keep  you  apart.  As  a  member  of  the  College  of 
Physicians  I've  felt  that  way  about  homoeopathy 
and  the  faith-cure.  All  very  well  if  patients  will 
call  'em  in,  but  can't  meet  'em  in  consultation. 
But  three  months'  drought  annually,  Jode  !  It's 
slow  —  too  slow.  The  Western  people  feel  that 
this  conservative  method  the  Zodiac  does  its  busi- 
ness by  is  out  of  date." 

"  I  am  quite  serious,  sir,"  said  Jode.  "  And  let 
me  express  my  gratification  that  you  do  see  my 
point."  So  we  changed  the  subject. 

Our  weather  scheme  did  not  at  first  greatly 
move  the  public.  Beyond  those  who  made  up 
the  purse,  few  of  our  acquaintances  expressed 
curiosity  about  Hilbrun,  and  next  afternoon  Lin 
McLean  told  me  in  the  street  that  he  was  dis- 
gusted with  Cheyenne's  coldness  toward  the  en- 
terprise. "  But  the  boys  would  fly  right  at  it  and 
stay  with  it  if  the  round-up  was  near  town,  you 
bet,"  said  he. 

He  was  walking  alone.  "  How's  Mrs.  McLean 
to-day  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  She's  well,"  said  Lin,  turning  his  eye  from 
mine.  "  Who's  your  friend  all  bugged  up  in  Eng- 
lish clothes  ?" 

"  About  as  good  a  man  as  you,"  said  I,  "  and 
more  cautious." 

"  Him  and  his  eye-glasses  !"  said  the  sceptical 
puncher,  still  looking  away  from  me  and  survey- 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  85 

ing  Ogden,  who  was  approaching  with  the  Gov- 
ernor. That  excellent  man,  still  at  long  range, 
broke  out  smiling  till  his  teeth  shone,  and  he 
waved  a  yellow  paper  at  us. 

"  Telegram  from  Hilbrun,"  he  shouted  ;  "  be 
here  to-morrow";  and  he  hastened  up. 

"  Says  he  wants  a  cart  at  the  depot,  and  a  small 
building  where  he  can  be  private,"  added  Ogden. 
"  Great,  isn't  it  ?" 

"You  bet !"  said  Lin,  brightening.  The  New- 
Yorker's  urbane  but  obvious  excitement  molli- 
fied Mr.  McLean.  "  Ever  seen  rain  made,  Mr. 
Ogden  ?"  said  he. 

"  Never.     Have  you  ?" 

Lin  had  not.  Ogden  offered  him  a  cigar,  which 
the  puncher  pronounced  excellent,  and  we  all 
agreed  to  see  Hilbrun  arrive. 

"  We're  going  to  show  the  telegram  to  Jode," 
said  the  Governor  ;  and  he  and  Ogden  departed 
on  this  mission  to  the  signal  service. 

"Well,  I  must  be  getting  along  myself,"  said 
Lin  ;  but  he  continued  walking  slowly  with  me. 
"Where  're  yu'  bound?"  he  said. 

"  Nowhere  in  particular,"  said  I.  And  we  paced 
the  board  sidewalks  a  little  more. 

"  You're  going  to  meet  the  train  to-morrow  ?" 
said  he. 

"The  train?  Oh  yes.  Hilbrun's. ...  To  -  mor- 
row. You'll  be  there?" 

"  Yes,  I'll  be  there.  It's  sure  been  a  dry  spell, 
'ain't  it  ?" 

"  Yes.  Just  like  last  year.  In  fact,  like  all  the 
years." 

"Yes.     I've   never   saw  it  rain   any  to  speak 


86  LIN  MCLEAN 

of  in  summer.  I  expect  it's  the  rule.  Don't 
you?" 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder." 

"  I  don't  guess  any  man  knows  enough  to  break 
such  a  rule.  Do  you  ?" 

"  No.     But  it  '11  be  fun  to  see  him  try." 

"  Sure  fun  !  Well,  I  must  be  getting  along, 
See  yu'  to-morrow." 

"  See  you  to-morrow,  Lin." 

He  left  me  at  a  corner,  and  I  stood  watching 
his  tall,  depressed  figure.  A  hundred  yards  down 
the  street  he  turned,  and  seeing  me  looking  after 
him,  pretended  he  had  not  turned ;  and  then  I 
took  my  steps  toward  the  club,  telling  myself 
that  I  had  been  something  of  a  skunk ;  for  I  had 
inquired  for  Mrs.  McLean  in  a  certain  tone,  and 
I  had  hinted  to  Lin  that  he  had  lacked  caution ; 
and  this  was  nothing  but  a  way  of  saying  "  I  told 
you  so "  to  the  man  that  is  down.  Down  Lin 
certainly  was,  although  it  had  not  come  so  home 
to  me  until  our  little  walk  together  just  now 
along  the  boards. 

At  the  club  I  found  the  Governor  teaching 
Ogden  a  Cheyenne  specialty — a  particular  drink, 
the  Allston  cocktail.  "  It's  the  bitters  that  does 
the  trick,"  he  was  saying,  but  saw  me  and  called 
out :  "  You  ought  to  have  been  with  us  and  seen 
Jode.  I  showed  him  the  telegram,  you  know. 
He  read  it  through,  and  just  handed  it  back  to 
me,  and  went  on  monkeying  with  his  anemometer. 
Ever  seen  his  instruments?  Every  fresh  jigger 
they  get  out  he  sends  for.  Well,  he  monkeyed 
away,  and  wouldn't  say  a  word,  so  I  said,  'You 
understand,  Jode,  this  telegram  comes  from  Hil- 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  87 

brim.'  And  Jode,  he  quit  his  anemometer  and  said, 
*  I  make  no  doubt,  sir,  that  your  despatch  is  genu- 
Tvine.'  Oh,  South  Carolina's  indignant  at  me !" 
And  the  Governor  slapped  his  knee.  "  Why,  he's 
so  set  against  Hilbrun,"  he  continued,  "  I  guess 
if  he  knew  of  something  he  could  explode  to  stop 
rain  he'd  let  her  fly!" 

"  No,  he  wouldn't,"  said  I.  "  He'd  not  consider 
that  honorable." 

"  That's  so,"  the  Governor  assented.  "  Jode  '11 
play  fair." 

It  was  thus  we  had  come  to  look  at  our  enter- 
prise— a  game  between  a  well-established,  respect- 
able weather  bureau  and  an  upstart  charlatan. 
And  it  was  the  charlatan  had  our  sympathy — as 
all  charlatans,  whether  religious,  military,  medi- 
cal, political,  or  what  not,  have  with  the  average 
American.  We  met  him  at  the  station.  That  is, 
Ogden,  McLean,  and  I ;  and  the  Governor,  being 
engaged,  sent  (unofficially)  his  secretary  and  the 
requested  cart.  Lin  was  anxious  to  see  what 
would  be  put  in  the  cart,  and  I  was  curious  about 
how  a  rain  -  maker  would  look.  But  he  turned 
out  an  unassuming,  quiet  man  in  blue  serge, 
with  a  face  you  could  not  remember  afterwards, 
and  a  few  civil,  ordinary  remarks.  He  even  said 
it  was  a  hot  day,  as  if  he  had  no  relations  with 
the  weather;  and  what  he  put  into  the  cart  were 
only  two  packing-boxes  of  no  special  significance 
to  the  eye.  He  desired  no  lodging  at  the  hotel, 
but  to  sleep  with  his  apparatus  in  the  building 
provided  for  him  ;  and  ws  set  out  for  it  at  once. 
It  was  an  untenanted  barn,  and  he  asked  that  he 
and  his  assistant  might  cut  a  hole  in  the  roof, 


88  LIN  MCLEAN 

upon  which  we  noticed  the  assistant  for  the  first 
time  —  a  tallish,  good-looking  young  man,  but 
with  a  weak  mouth.  "  This  is  Mr.  Lusk,"  said  the 
rain-maker ;  and  we  shook  hands,  Ogden  and  I 
exchanging  a  glance.  Ourselves  and  the  cart 
marched  up  Hill  Street — or  Capitol  Avenue,  as 
it  has  become  named  since  Cheyenne  has  grown 
fuller  of  pomp  and  emptier  of  prosperity  —  and 
I  thought  we  made  an  unusual  procession  :  the 
Governor's  secretary,  unofficially  leading  the  way 
to  the  barn  ;  the  cart,  and  the  rain-maker  beside  it, 
guarding  his  packed-up  mysteries ;  McLean  and 
Lusk,  walking  together  in  unconscious  bigamy; 
and  in  the  rear,  Odgen  nudging  me  in  the  ribs. 
That  it  was  the  correct  Lusk  we  had  with  us  I 
felt  sure  from  his  incompetent,  healthy,  vacant 
appearance,  strong-bodied  and  shiftless — the  sort 
of  man  to  weary  of  one  trade  and  another,  and 
make  a  failure  of  wife  •  beating  betweenwhiles. 
In  Twenty-fourth  Street — the  town's  uttermost 
rim  —  the  Governor  met  us,  and  stared  at  Lusk. 
"  Christopher  !"  was  his  single  observation  ;  but 
he  never  forgets  a  face  —  cannot  afford  to,  now 
that  he  is  in  politics ;  and,  besides,  Lusk  remem- 
bered him.  You  seldom  really  forget  a  man  to 
whom  you  owe  ten  dollars. 

"  So  you've  quit  hauling  poles  ?"  said  the  Gov- 
ernor. 

"  Nothing  in  it,  sir,"  said  Lusk. 

"  Is  there  any  objection  to  my  having  a  hole  in 
the  roof  ?"  asked  the  rain -maker;  for  this  the 
secretary  had  been  unable  to  tell  him. 

"  What !  going  to  throw  your  bombs  through 
it  ?"  said  the  Governor,  smiling  heartily. 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  89 

But  the  rain-maker  explained  at  once  that  his 
was  not  the  bomb  system,  but  a  method  attended 
by  more  rain  and  less  disturbance.  "  Not  that  the 
bomb  don't  produce  first -class  results  at  times 
and  under  circumstances,"  he  said,  "  but  it's  un- 
certain and  costly." 

The  Governor  hesitated  about  the  hols  in  the 
roof,  which  Hilbrun  told  us  was  for  a  metal  pipe 
to  conduct  his  generated  gases  into  the  air.  The 
owner  of  the  barn  had  gone  to  Laramie.  How- 
ever, we  found  a  stove-pipe  hole,  which  saved 
delay.  "And  what  day  would  you  prefer  the 
shower?"  said  Hilbrun,  after  we  had  gone  over 
our  contract  with  him. 

"Any  day  would  do,"  the  Governor  said. 

This  was  Thursday ;  and  Sunday  was  chosen, 
as  a  day  when  no  one  had  business  to  detain  him 
from  witnessing  the  shower  —  though  it  seemed 
to  me  that  on  week-days,  too,  business  in  Chey- 
enne was  not  so  inexorable  as  this.  We  gave 
the  strangers  some  information  about  the  town, 
and  left  them.  The  sun  went  away  in  a  cloudless 
sky,  and  came  so  again  when  the  stars  had  fin- 
ished their  untarnished  shining.  Friday  was  clear 
and  dry  and  hot,  like  the  dynasty  of  blazing  days 
that  had  gone  before. 

I  saw  a  sorry  spectacle  in  the  street — the  bride- 
groom and  the  bride  shopping  together;  or,  rather, 
he  with  his  wad  of  bills  was  obediently  paying  for 
what  she  bought ;  and  when  I  met  them  he  was 
carrying  a  scarlet  parasol  and  a  bonnet-box.  His 
biscuit-shooter,  with  the  lust  of  purchase  on  her, 
was  brilliantly  dressed,  and  pervaded  the  street 
with  splendor,  like  an  escaped  parrot.  Lin  walked 


90  LIN  MCLEAN 

beside  her,  but  it  might  as  well  have  been  behind, 
and  his  bearing  was  so  different  from  his  wonted 
happy-go-luckiness  that  I  had  a  mind  to  take  off 
my  hat  and  say,  "  Good  -morning,  Mrs.  Lusk." 
But  it  was  "  Mrs.  McLean  "  I  said,  of  course.  She 
gave  me  a  remote,  imperious  nod,  and  said,  "Come 
on,  Lin,"  something  like  a  cross  nurse,  while  he, 
out  of  sheer  decency,  made  her  a  good-humored, 
jocular  answer,  and  said  to  me,  "  It  takes  a  woman 
to  know  what  to  buy  for  house-keepin' ";  which 
poor  piece  of  hypocrisy  endeared  him  to  me  more 
than  ever.  The  puncher  was  not  of  the  fibre  to 
succeed  in  keeping  appearances,  but  he  deserved 
success,  which  the  angels  consider  to  be  enough. 
I  wondered  if  disenchantment  had  set  in,  or  if 
this  were  only  the  preliminary  stage  of  surprise 
and  wounding,  and  I  felt  that  but  one  test  could 
show,  namely,  a  coming  face  to  face  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lusk,  perhaps  not  to  be  desired.  Neither 
was  it  likely.  The  assistant  rain-maker  kept  him- 
self steadfastly  inside  or  near  the  barn,  at  the 
north  corner  of  Cheyenne,  while  the  bride,  when 
she  was  in  the  street  at  all,  haunted  the  shops 
clear  across  town  diagonally. 

On  this  Friday  noon  the  appearance  of  the  metal 
tube  above  the  blind  building  spread  some  excite- 
ment. It  moved  several  of  the  citizens  to  pay 
the  place  a  visit  and  ask  to  see  the  machine. 
These  callers,  of  course,  sustained  a  polite  re- 
fusal, and  returned  among  their  friends  with  a 
contempt  for  such  quackery,  and  a  greatly  height- 
ened curiosity  ;  so  that  pretty  soon  you  could 
hear  discussions  at  the  street  corners,  and  by 
Saturday  morning  Cheyenne  was  talking  of  little 


LIN  MCLEAN  s  HONEY-MOON  91 

else.  The  town  prowled  about  the  barn  and  its 
oracular  metal  tube,  and  heard  and  saw  nothing. 
The  Governor  and  I  (let  it  be  confessed)  went 
there  ourselves,  since  the  twenty-four  hours  of  re- 
quired preparation  were  now  begun.  We  smelled 
for  chemicals,  and  he  thought  there  was  a  some- 
thing, but  having  been  bred  a  doctor,  distrust- 
ed his  imagination.  I  could  not  be  sure  myself 
whether  there  was  anything  or  not,  although  I 
walked  three  times  round  the  barn,  snuffing  as 
dispassionately  as  I  knew  how.  It  might  possibly 
be  chlorine,  the  Governor  said,  or  some  gas  for 
which  ammonia  was  in  part  responsible ;  and  this 
was  all  he  could  say,  and  we  left  the  place.  The 
world  was  as  still  and  the  hard,  sharp  hills  as  clear 
and  near  as  ever ;  and  the  sky  over  Sahara  is  not 
more  dry  and  enduring  than  was  ours.  This 
tenacity  in  the  elements  plainly  gave  Jode  a  mali- 
cious official  pleasure.  We  could  tell  it  by  his 
talk  at  lunch ;  and  when  the  Governor  reminded 
him  that  no  rain  was  contracted  for  until  the 
next  day,  he  mentioned  that  the  approach  of  a 
storm  is  something  that  modern  science  is  able 
to  ascertain  long  in  advance ;  and  he  bade  us 
come  to  his  office  whenever  we  pleased,  and  see 
for  ourselves  what  science  said.  This  was,  at  any 
rate,  something  to  fill  the  afternoon  with,  and  we 
went  to  him  about  five.  Lin  McLean  joined  us 
on  the  way.  I  came  upon  him  lingering  alone  in 
the  street,  and  he  told  me  that  Mrs.  McLean  was 
calling  on  friends.  I  saw  that  he  did  not  know 
how  to  spend  the  short  recess  or  holiday  he  was 
having.  He  seemed  to  cling  to  the  society  of 
others,  and  with  them  for  the  time  regain  his 


92  LIN  MCLEAN 

gayer  mind.  He  had  become  converted  to  Ogden, 
and  the  New-Yorker,  on  his  side,  found  pleasant 
and  refreshing  this  democracy  of  Governors  and 
cow-punchers.  Jode  received  us  at  the  signal- 
service  office,  and  began  to  show  us  his  instru- 
ments with  the  careful  pride  of  an  orchid-col- 
lector. 

"  A  hair  hygrometer,"  he  said  to  me,  waving 
his  waxlike  hand  over  it.  "  The  indications  are 
obtained  from  the  expansion  and  contraction  of 
a  prepared  human  hair,  transferred  to  an  index 
needle  traversing  the  divided  arc  of — " 

"What  oil  do  you  put  on  the  human  hair, 
Jode  ?"  called  out  the  Governor,  who  had  left 
our  group,  and  was  gamboling  about  by  himself 
among  the  tubes  and  dials.  "  What  will  this  one 
do  ?"  he  asked,  and  poked  at  a  wet  paper  disc. 
But  before  the  courteous  Jode  could  explain  that 
it  had  to  do  with  evaporation  and  the  dew-point, 
the  Governor's  attention  wandered,  and  he  was 
blowing  at  a  little  fan-wheel.  This  instantly  re- 
volved and  set  a  number  of  dial  hands  going  dif- 
ferent ways.  "  Hi!"  said  the  Governor,  delighted. 
"  Seen  'em  like  that  down  mines.  Register  air 
velocity  in  feet.  Put  it  away,  Jode.  You  don't 
want  that  to-morrow.  What  you'll  need,  Hilbrun 
says,  is  a  big  old  rain-gauge  and  rubber  shoes." 

"  I  shall  require  nothing  of  the  sort,  Governor," 
Jode  retorted  at  once.  "  And  you  can  go  to 
church  without  your  umbrella  in  safety,  sir.  See 
there."  He  pointed  to  a  storm-glass,  which  was 
certainly  as  clear  as  crystal.  "  An  old-fashioned 
test,  you  will  doubtless  say,  gentlemen,"  Jode 
continued — though  none  of  us  would  have  said 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  93 

anything  like  that  —  "but  unjustly  discredited; 
and,  furthermore,  its  testimony  is  well  corrobo- 
rated, as  you  will  find  you  must  admit."  Jode's 
voice  was  almost  threatening,  and  he  fetched 
one  corroborator  after  another.  I  looked  passive- 
ly at  wet  and  dry  bulbs,  at  self-recording,  dotted 
registers ;  I  caught  the  fleeting  sound  of  words 
like  "  meniscus  "  and  "  terrestrial  minimum  ther- 
mometer," and  I  nodded  punctually  when  Jode 
went  through  some  calculation.  At  last  I  heard 
something  that  I  could  understand — a  series  of 
telegraphic  replies  to  Jode  from  brother  signal- 
service  officers  all  over  the  United  States.  He 
read  each  one  through  from  date  of  signature, 
and  they  all  made  any  rain  to-morrow  entirely 
impossible.  "And  I  tell  you,"  Jode  concluded, 
in  his  high,  egg-shell  voice,  "  there's  no  chance  of 
precipitation  now,  sir.  I  tell  you,  sir" — he  was 
shrieking  jubilantly — "there's  not  a  damn*  thing 
to  precipitate!" 

We  left  him  in  his  triumph  among  his  glass 
and  mercury.  "  Gee  whiz  !"  said  the  Governor. 
"  I  guess  we'd  better  go  and  tell  Hilbrun  it's  no 
use." 

We  went,  and  Hilbrun  smiled  with  a  certain 
compassion  for  the  antiquated  scientist.  "  That's 
what  they  all  say,"  he  said.  "  I'll  do  my  talking 
to-morrow." 

"  If  any  of  you  gentlemen,  or  your  friends," 
said  Assistant  Lusk,  stepping  up,  "  feel  like  doing 
a  little  business  on  this,  I  am  ready  to  accommo- 
date you." 

"  What  do  yu'  want  this  evenin'  ?"  said  Lin  Mc- 
Lean, promptly. 


94  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Five  to  one,"  said  Lusk. 

"  Go  yu'  in  twenties,"  said  the  impetuous  punch- 
er ;  and  I  now  perceived  this  was  to  be  a  sporting 
event.  Lin  had  his  wad  of  bills  out — or  what  of 
it  still  survived  his  bride's  shopping.  "Will  you 
hold  stakes,  doctor  ?"  he  said  to  the  Governor. 

But  that  official  looked  at  the  clear  sky,  and 
thought  he  would  do  five  to  one  in  twenties  him- 
self. Lusk  accommodated  him,  and  then  Ogden, 
and  then  me.  None  of  us  could  very  well  be 
stake -holder,  but  we  registered  our  bets,  and 
promised  to  procure  an  uninterested  man  by 
eight  next  morning.  I  have  seldom  had  so  much 
trouble,  and  I  never  saw  such  a  universal  search 
for  ready  money.  Every  man  we  asked  to  hold 
stakes  instantly  whipped  out  his  own  pocket- 
book,  went  in  search  of  Lusk,  and  disqualified 
himself.  It  was  Jode  helped  us  out.  He  would 
not  bet,  but  was  anxious  to  serve,  and  thus  pun- 
ish the  bragging  Lusk. 

Sunday  was,  as  usual,  chronically  fine,  with  no 
cloud  or  breeze  anywhere,  and  by  the  time  the 
church-bells  were  ringing,  ten  to  one  was  freely 
offered.  The  biscuit -shooter  went  to  church 
with  her  friends,  so  she  might  wear  her  fine 
clothes  in  a  worthy  place,  while  her  furloughed 
husband  rushed  about  Cheyenne,  entirely  his 
own  old  self  again,  his  wad  of  money  staked  and 
in  Jode's  keeping.  Many  citizens  bitterly  la- 
mented their  lack  of  ready  money.  But  it  was 
a  good  thing  for  these  people  that  it  was  Sunday, 
and  the  banks  closed. 

The  church-bells  ceased;  the  congregations  sat 
inside,  but  outside  the  hot  town  showed  no  Sun- 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  95 

day  emptiness  or  quiet.  The  metal  tube,  the 
possible  smell,  Jode's  sustained  and  haughty  in- 
dignation, the  extraordinary  assurance  of  Lusk, 
all  this  had  ended  by  turning  every  one  restless 
and  eccentric.  A  citizen  came  down  the  street 
with  an  umbrella.  In  a  moment  the  by-standers 
had  reduced  it  to  a  sordid  tangle  of  ribs.  Old 
Judge  Burrage  attempted  to  address  us  at  the 
corner  about  the  vast  progress  of  science.  The 
postmaster  pinned  a  card  on  his  back  with  the 
well-known  legend,  "  I  am  somewhat  of  a  liar 
myself."  And  all  the  while  the  sun  shone  high 
and  hot,  while  Jode  grew  quieter  and  colder  un- 
der the  certainty  of  victory.  It  was  after  twelve 
o'clock  when  the  people  came  from  church,  and 
no  change  or  sign  was  to  be  seen.  Jode  told  us, 
with  a  chill  smile,  that  he  had  visited  his  instru- 
ments and  found  no  new  indications.  Fifteen 
minutes  after  that  the  sky  was  brown.  Sudden, 
padded,  dropsical  clouds  were  born  in  the  blue 
above  our  heads.  They  blackened,  and  a  smart 
shower,  the  first  in  two  months,  wet  us  all,  and 
ceased.  The  sun  blazed  out,  and  the  sky  came 
blue  again,  like  those  rapid,  unconvincing  weather 
changes  of  the  drama. 

Amazement  at  what  I  saw  happening  in  the 
heavens  took  me  from  things  on  earth,  and  I  was 
unaware  of  the  universal  fit  that  now  seized  upon 
Cheyenne  until  I  heard  the  high  cry  of  Jode  at 
my  ear.  His  usual  punctilious  bearing  had  for- 
saken him,  and  he  shouted  alike  to  stranger  and 
acquaintance  :  "  It  is  no  half-inch,  sir !  Don't  you 
tell  me!"  And  the  crowd  would  swallow  him, 
but  you  could  mark  his  vociferous  course  as  he 


96  LIN  MCLEAN 

went  proclaiming  to  the  world:  "  A  failure,  sir  ! 
The  fellow's  an  impostor,  as  I  well  knew.  It's  no 
half-inch  I"  Which  was  true. 

"  What  have  you  got  to  say  to  that  ?"  we  asked 
Hilbrun,  swarming  around  him. 

"  If  you'll  just  keep  cool,"  said  he — "  it's  only 
the  first  instalment.  In  about  two  hours  and  a 
half  I'll  give  you  the  rest." 

Soon  after  four  the  dropsical  clouds  material- 
ized once  again  above  open-mouthed  Cheyenne. 
No  school  let  out  for  an  unexpected  holiday,  no 
herd  of  stampeded  range  cattle,  conducts  itself 
more  miscellaneously.  Gray,  respectable  men, 
with  daughters  married,  leaped  over  fences  and 
sprang  back,  prominent  legislators  hopped  howl- 
ing up  and  down  door-steps,  women  waved  hand- 
kerchiefs from  windows  and  porches,  the  chatter- 
ing Jode  flew  from  anemometer  to  rain-gauge, 
and  old  Judge  Burrage  apostrophized  Providence 
in  his  front  yard,  with  the  postmaster's  label  still 
pinned  to  his  back.  Nobody  minded  the  sluicing 
downpour  —  this  second  instalment  was  much 
more  of  a  thing  than  the  first  —  and  Hilbrun 
alone  kept  a  calm  exterior — the  face  of  the  man 
who  lifts  a  heavy  dumb-bell  and  throws  an  im- 
pressive glance  at  the  audience.  Assistant  Lusk 
was  by  no  means  thus  proof  against  success.  I 
saw  him  put  a  bottle  back  in  his  pocket,  his  face 
already  disintegrated  with  a  tipsy  leer.  Judge 
Burrage,  perceiving  the  rain-maker,  came  out  of 
his  gate  and  proceeded  toward  him,  extend- 
ing the  hand  of  congratulation.  "  Mr.  Hil- 
brun," said  he,  "I  am  Judge  Burrage  —  the  Hon- 
orable T.  Coleman  Burrage  —  and  I  will  say 


LIN  MCLEAN'S  HONEY-MOON  97 

that  I  am  most  favorably  impressed  with  your 
shower." 

"  His  shower  !"  yelped  Jode,  flourishing  meas- 
urements. 

"  Why,  yu'  don't  claim  it's  yourn,  do  yu'  ?"  said 
Lin  McLean,  grinning. 

"  I  tell  you  it's  no  half-inch  yet,  gentlemen," 
said  Jode,  ignoring  the  facetious  puncher. 

"  You're  mistaken,"  said  Hilbrun,  sharply. 

"  It's  a  plumb  big  show,  half-inch  or  no  half- 
inch,"  said  Lin. 

"  If  he's  short  he  don't  get  his  money,"  said 
some  ignoble  subscriber. 

"Yes,  he  will,"  said  the  Governor,  "or  I'm  a 
shote.  He's  earned  it." 

"You  bet !"  said  Lin.  "Fair  and  square.  If 
they're  goin'  back  on  yu',  doctor,  I'll  chip  — 
Shucks  !"  Lin's  hand  fell  from  the  empty  pocket; 
he  remembered  his  wad  in  the  stake  -  holder's 
hands,  and  that  he  now  possessed  possibly  two 
dollars  in  silver,  all  told.  "  I  can't  chip  in,  doc- 
tor," he  said.  "  That  hobo  over  there  has  won 
my  cash,  an'  he's  rilling  up  on  the  prospect  right 
now.  I  don't  care  !  It's  the  biggest  show  I've 
ever  saw.  You're  a  dandy,  Mr.  Hilbrun!  Whoop!" 
And  Lin  clapped  the  rain-maker  on  the  shoulder, 
exulting.  He  had  been  too  well  entertained  to 
care  what  he  had  in  his  pocket,  and  his  wife  had 
not  yet  occurred  to  him. 

They  were  disputing  about  the  rainfall,  which 
had  been  slightly  under  half  an  inch  in  a  few 
spots,  but  over  it  in  many  others ;  and  while  we 
stood  talking  in  the  renewed  sunlight,  more  tele- 
grams were  brought  to  Jode,  saying  that  there 

7 


98  LIN  MCLEAN 

was  no  moisture  anywhere,  and  simultaneously 
with  these,  riders  dashed  into  town  with  the  news 
that  twelve  miles  out  the  rain  had  flattened  the 
grain  crop.  We  had  more  of  such  reports  from 
as  far  as  thirty  miles,  and  beyond  that  there  had 
not  been  a  drop  or  a  cloud.  It  staggered  one's 
reason  ;  the  brain  was  numb  with  surprise. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  the  rain-maker,  "  I'm 
packed  up,  and  my  train  '11  be  along  soon— would 
have  been  along  by  this,  only  it's  late.  What's 
the  word  as  to  my  three  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars?" 

Even  still  there  were  objections  expressed.  He 
had  not  entirely  performed  his  side  of  the  con- 
tract. 

"  I  think  different,  gentlemen,"  said  he.  "  But 
I'll  unpack  and  let  that  train  go.  I  can't  have 
the  law  on  you,  I  suppose.  But  if  you  don't  pay 
me  "  (the  rain-maker  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
and  leaned  against  the  fence)  'k  I'll  flood  your 
town." 

In  earthquakes  and  eruptions  people  end  by 
expecting  anything ;  and  in  the  total  eclipse  that 
was  now  over  all  Cheyenne's  ordinary  standards 
and  precedents  the  bewildered  community  saw  in 
this  threat  nothing  more  unusual  than  if  he  had 
said  twice  two  made  four.  The  purse  was  hand- 
ed over. 

"  I'm  obliged,"  said  Hilbrun,  simply. 

"  If  I  had  foreseen,  gentlemen,"  said  Jode,  too 
deeply  grieved  now  to  feel  anger,  "  that  I  would 
even  be  indirectly  associated  with  your  losing 
your  money  through  this  —  this  absurd  occur- 
rence, I  would  have  declined  to  help  you.  It  be- 


LIN  MCLEAN  s  HONEY-MOON  99 

comes  my  duty,"  he  continued,  turning  coldly  to 
the  inebriated  Lusk,  "  to  hand  this  to  you,  sir." 
And  the  assistant  lurchingly  stuffed  his  stakes 
away. 

"  It's  worth  it,"  said  Lin.  "  He's  welcome  to 
my  cash." 

"  What's  that  you  say,  Lin  McLean  ?"  It  was 
the  biscuit-shooter,  and  she  surged  to  the  front. 

"  I'm  broke.  He's  got  it.  That's  all,"  said  Lin, 
briefly. 

"Broke!  You!"  She  glared  at  her  athletic 
young  lord,  and  she  uttered  a  preliminary  howl. 

At  that  long -lost  cry  Lusk  turned  his  silly 
face.  "It's  my  darling  Kate,"  he  said.  "Why, 
Kate !" 

The  next  thing  that  I  knew  Ogden  and  I  were 
grappling  with  Lin  McLean  ;  for  everything  had 
happened  at  once.  The  bride  had  swooped  upon 
her  first  wedded  love  and  burst  into  tears  on  the 
man's  neck,  which  Lin  was  trying  to  break  in 
consequence.  We  do  not  always  recognize  our 
benefactors  at  sight.  They  all  came  to  the 
ground,  and  we  hauled  the  second  husband  off. 
The  lady  and  Lusk  remained  in  a  heap,  he  fool- 
ish, tearful,  and  affectionate ;  she  turned  furiously 
at  bay,  his  guardian  angel,  indifferent  to  the  on- 
looking  crowd,  and  hurling  righteous  defiance  at 
Lin.  "  Don't  yus  dare  lay  yer  finger  on  my  hus- 
band, you  sage-brush  bigamist !"  is  what  the  mar- 
vellous female  said. 

"  Bigamist  ?"  repeated  Lin,  dazed  at  this  charge. 
"  I  ain't,"  he  said  to  Ogden  and  me.  "  I  never 
did.  I've  never  married  any  of  'em  before  her." 

"  Little  good  that  '11  do  yus,  Lin  McLean  !    Me 


ioo  LIN  MCLEAN 

and  him  was  man  and  wife  before  ever  I  come 
acrosst  yus." 

"  You  and  him  ?"  murmured  the  puncher. 

"  Her  and  me,"  whimpered  Lusk.  "  Sidney." 
He  sat  up  with  a  limp,  confiding  stare  at  every- 
body. 

"Sidney  who?"  said  Lin. 

"  No,  no,"  corrected  Lusk,  crossly  —  "  Sidney, 
Nebraska." 

The  stakes  at  this  point  fell  from  his  pocket, 
which  he  did  not  notice.  But  the  bride  had  them 
in  safe-keeping  at  once. 

"Who  are  yu',  anyway — when  yu'  ain't  drunk?" 
demanded  Lin. 

"  He's  as  good  a  man  as  you,  and  better,"  snort- 
ed the  guardian  angel.  "  Give  him  a  pistol,  and 
he'll  make  you  hard  to  find," 

"Well,  you  listen  to  me,  Sidney  Nebraska — " 
Lin  began. 

"  No,  no,"  corrected  Lusk  once  more,  as  a  dis- 
tant whistle  blew— "Jim." 

"Good-bye,  gentlemen,"  said  the  rain-maker. 
"  That's  the  west-bound.  I'm  perfectly  satisfied 
with  my  experiment  here,  and  I'm  off  to  repeat 
it  at  Salt  Lake  City." 

"  You  are  ?"  shouted  Lin  McLean.  "  Him  and 
Jim's  going  to  work  it  again !  For  goodness' 
sake,  somebody  lend  me  twenty-five  dollars !" 

At  this  there  was  an  instantaneous  rush.  Ten 
minutes  later,  in  front  of  the  ticket-windows, 
there  was  a  line  of  citizens  buying  tickets  for 
Salt  Lake  as  if  it  had  been  Madame  Bernhardt. 
Some  rock  had  been  smitten,  and  ready  money 
had  flowed  forth.  The  Governor  saw  us  off,  sad 


LIN  MCLEAN  s  HONEY-MOON  101 

that  his  duties  should  detain  him.  But  Jode 
went ! 

"  Betting  is  the  fool's  argument,  gentlemen," 
said  he  to  Ogden,  McLean,  and  me,  "  and  it's  a 
weary  time  since  I  have  had  the  pleasure." 

"  Which  way  are  yu'  bettin'  ?"  Lin  asked. 

"With  my  principles,  sir,"  answered  the  little 
signal-service  officer. 

"  I  expect  I  'ain't  got  any,"  said  the  puncher. 
"  It's  Jim  I'm  backin'  this  time." 

"  See  here,"  said  I ;  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 
We  went  into  another  car,  and  I  did. 

"  And  so  yu'  knowed  about  Lusk  when  we  was 
on  them  board  walks  ?"  the  puncher  said. 

"  Do  you  mean  I  ought  to  have — " 

44  Shucks  !  no.  Yu'  couldn't.  Nobody  couldn't. 
It's  a  queer  world,  all  the  same.  Yu'  have  good 
friends,  and  all  that."  He  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dow. "  Laramie  already  !"  he  commented,  and 
got  out  and  walked  by  himself  on  the  platform 
until  we  had  started  again.  "  Yu'  have  good 
friends,"  he  pursued,  settling  himself  so  his  long 
legs  were  stretched  and  comfortable,  "and  they 
tell  yu'  things,  and  you  tell  them  things.  And 
when  it  don't  make  no  particular  matter  one  way 
or  the  other,  yu'  give  'em  your  honest  opinion 
and  talk  straight  to  'em,  and  they'll  come  to  you 
the  same  way.  So  that  when  yu're  ridin'  the 
range  alone  sometimes,  and  thinkin*  a  lot  o' 
things  over  on  top  maybe  of  some  dog-goned 
hill,  you'll  say  to  yourself  about  some  fellow  yu' 
know  mighty  well, '  There's  a  man  is  a  good  friend 
of  mine.'  And  yu'  mean  it.  And  it's  so.  Yet 
when  matters  is  serious,  as  onced  in  a  while 


102  LIN  MCLEAN 

they're  bound  to  get,  and  yu're  in  a  plumb  hole, 
where  is  the  man  then — your  good  friend  ?  Why, 
he's  where  yu'  want  him  to  be.  Standin'  off, 
keepin'  his  mouth  shut,  and  lettin'  yu'  find  your 
own  trail  out.  If  he  tried  to  show  it  to  yu',  yu'd 
likely  hit  him.  But  shucks  !  Circumstances  have 
showed  me  the  trail  this  time,  you  bet !"  And 
the  puncher's  face,  which  had  been  sombre,  grew 
lively,  and  he  laid  a  friendly  hand  on  my  knee. 

"  The  trail's  pretty  simple,"  said  I. 

"  You  bet !  But  it's  sure  a  queer  world.  Tell 
yu',''  said  Lin,  with  the  air  of  having  made  a  dis- 
covery, "when  a  man  gets  down  to  bed-rock  af- 
fairs in  this  life  he's  got  to  do  his  travellin'  alone, 
same  as  he  does  his  dyin'.  I  expect  even  married 
men  has  thoughts  and  hopes  they  don't  tell  their 
wives." 

"  Never  was  married,"  said  I. 

"  Well — no  more  was  I.  Let's  go  to  bed."  And 
Lin  shook  my  hand,  and  gave  me  a  singular, 
rather  melancholy  smile. 

At  Salt  Lake  City,  which  Ogden  was  glad  to  in- 
clude in  his  Western  holiday,  we  found  both  Mor- 
mon and  Gentile  ready  to  give  us  odds  against 
rain — only  I  noticed  that  those  of  the  true  faith 
were  less  free.  Indeed,  the  Mormon,  the  Quaker, 
and  most  sects  of  an  isolated  doctrine  have  a  nice 
prudence  in  money.  During  our  brief  stay  we 
visited  the  sights  :  floating  in  the  lake,  listening 
to  pins  drop  in  the  gallery  of  the  Tabernacle, 
seeing  frescos  of  saints  in  robes  speaking  from 
heaven  to  Joseph  Smith  in  the  Sunday  clothes  of 
a  modern  farm-hand,  and  in  the  street  we  heard 
at  a  distance  a  strenuous  domestic  talk  between 


LINE  MCLEAN  s  HONEY-MOON  103 

the  new — or  perhaps  I  should  say  the  original — 
husband  and  wife. 

"  She's  corralled  Sidney's  cash !"  said  the  de- 
lighted Lin.  "  He  can't  bet  nothing  on  this 
shower/' 

And  then,  after  all,  this  time — it  didn't  rain  ! 

Stripped  of  money  both  ways,  Cheyenne,  hav- 
ing most  fortunately  purchased  a  return  ticket, 
sought  its  home.  The  perplexed  rain-maker  went 
somewhere  else,  without  his  assistant.  Lusk's 
exulting  wife,  having  the  money,  retained  him 
with  her. 

"  Good  luck  to  yu',  Sidney  !"  said  Lin,  speaking 
to  him  for  the  first  time  since  Cheyenne.  "  I  feel 
a  heap  better  since  I've  saw  yu'  married."  He 
paid  no  attention  to  the  biscuit-shooter,  or  the 
horrible  language  that  she  threw  after  him. 

Jode  also  felt  "a  heap  better."  Legitimate 
science  had  triumphed.  To-day,  most  of  Chey- 
enne believes  with  Jode  that  it  was  all  a  coinci- 
dence. South  Carolina  had  bet  on  her  principles, 
and  won  from  Lin  the  few  dollars  that  I  had  lent 
the  puncher. 

"  And  what  will  you  do  now  ?"  I  said  to  Lin. 

"  Join  the  beef  round  -  up.  Balaam's  payin' 
forty  dollars.  I  guess  that  '11  keep  a  single  man." 


A  JOURNEY  IN  SEARCH  OF  CHRISTMAS 

THE  Governor  descended  the  steps  of  the  Capi- 
tol slowly  and  with  pauses,  lifting  a  list  frequent- 
ly to  his  eye.  He  had  intermittently  pencilled  it 
between  stages  of  the  forenoon's  public  business, 
and  his  gait  grew  absent  as  he  recurred  now  to 
his  jottings  in  their  accumulation,  with  a  slight 
pain  at  their  number,  and  the  definite  fear  that 
they  would  be  more  in  seasons  to  come.  They 
were  the  names  of  his  friends'  children  to  whom 
his  excellent  heart  moved  him  to  give  Christmas 
presents.  He  had  put  off  this  regenerating  evil 
until  the  latest  day,  as  was  his  custom,  and  now 
he  was  setting  forth  to  do  the  whole  thing  at  a 
blow,  entirely  planless  among  the  guns  and  rock- 
ing-horses that  would  presently  surround  him. 
As  he  reached  the  highway  he  heard  himself  fa- 
miliarly addressed  from  a  distance,  and,  turning, 
saw  four  sons  of  the  alkali  jogging  into  town  from 
the  plain.  One  who  had  snouted  to  him  galloped 
out  from  the  others,  rounded  the  Capitol's  enclos- 
ure, and,  approaching  with  radiant  countenance, 
leaned  to  reach  the  hand  of  the  Governor,  and 
once  again  greeted  him  with  a  hilarious  "Hello, 
Doc  !" 

Governor  Barker,  M.D.,  seeing  Mr.  McLean  un- 
expectedly after  several  years,  hailed  the  horse- 


A   JOURNEY  IN   SEARCH    OP   CHRISTMAS         105 

man  with  frank  and  lively  pleasure,  and,  inquir- 
ing who  might  be  the  other  riders  behind,  was 
told  that  they  were  Shorty,  Chalkeye,  and  Dollar 
Bill,  come  for  Christmas.  "And  dandies  to  hit 
town  with,"  Mr.  McLean  added.  "  Red-hot." 

"  I  am  acquainted  with  them,"  assented  his 
Excellency. 

"  We've  been  ridin'  trail  for  twelve  weeks,"  the 
cow-puncher  continued,  "  makin'  our  beds  down 
anywheres,  and  eatin'  the  same  old  chuck  every 
day.  So  we've  shook  fried  beef  and  heifer's  de- 
light, and  we're  goin'  to  feed  high." 

Then  Mr.  McLean  overflowed  with  talk  and 
pungent  confidences,  for  the  holidays  already 
rioted  in  his  spirit,  and  his  tongue  was  loosed 
over  their  coming  rites. 

"  We've  soured  on  scenery,"  he  finished,  in  his 
drastic  idiom.  "We're  sick  of  moonlight  and 
cow-dung,  and  we're  heeled  for  a  big  time." 

"  Call  on  me,"  remarked  the  Governor,  cheerily, 
"  when  you're  ready  for  bromides  and  sulphates." 

"  I  ain't  box  -  headed  no  more,"  protested  Mr. 
McLean  ;  "  I've  got  maturity,  Doc,  since  I  seen 
yu'  at  the  rain-making,  and  I'm  a  heap  older  than 
them  hospital  days  when  I  bust  my  leg  on  yu'. 
Three  or  four  glasses  and  quit.  That's  my  rule." 

"  That  your  rule,  too  ?"  inquired  the  Governor 
of  Shorty,  Chalkeye,  and  Dollar  Bill.  These  gen- 
tlemen of  the  saddle  were  sittirfg  quite  expres- 
sionless upon  their  horses. 

"We  ain't  talkin',  we're  waitin',"  observed 
Chalkeye  ;  and  the  three  cynics  smiled  amiably. 

"Well,  Doc,  see  yu'  again,"  said  Mr.  McLean. 
He  turned  to  accompany  his  brother  cow-punch- 


io6  LIN  MCLEAN 

ers,  but  in  that  particular  moment  Fate  descend- 
ed or  came  up  from  whatever  place  she  dwells 
in  and  entered  the  body  of  the  unsuspecting  Gov- 
ernor. 

"What's  your  hurry?"  said  Fate,  speaking  in 
the  official's  hearty  manner.  "  Come  along  with 
me." 

"  Can't  do  it.     Where  're  yu'  goin'  ?" 

"  Christmasing,"  replied  Fate. 

"  Well,  I've  got  to  feed  my  horse.  Christmas- 
ing,  yu'  say  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  I'm  buying  toys." 

"Toys!     You?    What  for?" 

"  Oh,  some  kids." 

"  Yourn  ?"  screeched  Lin,  precipitately. 

His  Excellency  the  jovial  Governor  opened  his 
teeth  in  pleasure  at  this,  for  he  was  a  bachelor, 
and  there  were  fifteen  upon  his  list,  which  he 
held  up  for  the  edification  of  the  hasty  McLean. 
"  Not  mine,  I'm  happy  to  say.  My  friends  keep 
marrying  and  settling,  and  their  kids  call  me 
uncle,  and  climb  around  and  bother,  and  I  forget 
their  names,  and  think  it's  a  girl,  and  the  mother 
gets  mad.  Why,  if  I  didn't  remember  these  little 
folks  at  Christmas  they'd  be  wondering — not  the 
kids,  they  just  break  your  toys  and  don't  notice  ; 
but  the  mother  would  wonder — *  What's  the  mat- 
ter with  Dr.  Barker  ?  Has  Governor  Barker  gone 
back  on  us  ?'•— that's  where  the  strain  comes  !"  he 
broke  off,  facing  Mr.  McLean  with  another  spa- 
cious laugh. 

But  the  cow-puncher  had  ceased  to  smile,  and 
now,  while  Barker  ran  on  exuberantly,  McLean's 
wide-open  eyes  rested  upon  him,  singular  and  in- 


A  JOURNEY    IN   SEARCH    OF    CHRISTMAS         107 

tent,  and  in  their  hazel  depths  the  last  gleam  of 
jocularity  went  out. 

"  That's  where  the  strain  comes,  you  see.  Two 
sets  of  acquaintances.  Grateful  patients  and  loyal 
voters,  and  I've  got  to  keep  solid  with  both  out- 
fits, especially  the  wives  and  mothers.  They're 
the  people.  So  it's  drums,  and  dolls,  and  sheep 
on  wheels,  and  games,  and  monkeys  on  a  stick, 
and  the  saleslady  shows  you  a  mechanical  bear, 
and  it  costs  too  much,  and  you  forget  whether  the 
Judge's  second  girl  is  Nellie  or  Susie,  and — well, 
I'm  just  in  for  my  annual  circus  this  afternoon  ! 
You're  in  luck.  Christmas  don't  trouble  a  chap 
fixed  like  you." 

Lin  McLean  prolonged  the  sentence  like  a  dis- 
tant echo. 

"  A  chap  fixed  like  you  !"  The  cow-puncher 
said  it  slowly  to  himself.  "  No,  sure."  He  seemed 
to  be  watching  Shorty,  and  Chalkeye,  and  Dollar 
Bill  going  down  the  road.  "  That's  a  new  idea — 
Christmas,"  he  murmured,  for  it  was  one  of  his 
oldest,  and  he  was  recalling  the  Christmas  when 
he  wore  his  first  long  trousers. 

"  Comes  once  a  year  pretty  regular,"  remarked 
the  prosperous  Governor.  "  Seems  often  when 
you  pay  the  bill." 

"  I  haven't  made  a  Christmas  gift,"  pursued  the 
cow-puncher,  dreamily,  "  not  for — for — Lord  !  it's 
a  hundred  years,  I  guess.  I  don't  know  any- 
body that  has  any  right  to  look  for  such  a  thing 
from  me."  This  was  indeed  a  new  idea,  and  it 
did  not  stop  the  chill  that  was  spreading  in  his 
heart. 

"Gee  whiz  !"  said  Barker,  briskly,  "there  goes 


io8  LIN  MCLEAN 

twelve  o'clock.  I've  got  to  make  a  start.  Sorry 
you  can't  come  and  help  me.  Good-bye  !" 

His  Excellency  left  the  rider  sitting  motionless, 
and  forgot  him  at  once  in  his  own  preoccupation. 
He  hastened  upon  his  journey  to  the  shops  with 
the  list,  not  in  his  pocket,  but  held  firmly,  like  a 
plank  in  the  imminence  of  shipwreck.  The  Nel- 
lies and  Susies  pervaded  his  mind,  and  he  strug- 
gled with  the  presentiment  that  in  a  day  or  two 
he  would  recall  some  omitted  and  wretchedly  im- 
portant child.  Quick  hoof-beats  made  him  look 
up,  and  Mr.  McLean  passed  like  a  wind.  The 
Governor  absently  watched  him  go,  and  saw  the 
pony  hunch  and  stiffen  in  the  check  of  his  speed 
when  Lin  overtook  his  companions.  Down  there 
in  the  distance  they  took  a  side  street,  and  Barker 
rejoicingly  remembered  one  more  name  and  wrote 
it  as  he  walked.  In  a  few  minutes  he  had  come 
to  the  shops,  and  met  face  to  face  with  Mr. 
McLean. 

"The  boys  are  seein'  after  my  horse,"  Lin 
rapidly  began,  "  and  I've  got  to  meet  'em  sharp 
at  one.  We're  twelve  weeks  shy  on  a  square 
meal,  yu'  see,  and  this  first  has  been  a  date  from 
'way  back.  I'd  like  to — "  Here  Mr.  McLean 
cleared  his  throat,  and  his  speech  went  less 
smoothly.  "  Doc,  I'd  like  just  for  a  while  to 
watch  yu'  gettin' — them  monkeys,  yu'  know." 

The  Governor  expressed  his  agreeable  surprise 
at  this  change  of  mind,  and  was  glad  of  McLean's 
company  and  judgment  during  the  impending 
selections.  A  picture  of  a  cow-puncher  and  him- 
self discussing  a  couple  of  dolls  rose  nimbly  in 
Barker's  mental  eye,  and  it  was  with  an  imper- 


A  JOURNEY  IN   SEARCH    OF    CHRISTMAS         109 

feet  honesty  that  he  said,  "You'll  help  me   a 
heap."  , 

And  Lin,  quite  sincere,  replied,  "  Thank  yu'." 
So  together  these  two  went  Christmasing  in 
the  throng.  Wyoming's  Chief  Executive  knocked 
elbows  with  the  spurred  and  jingling  waif,  one 
man  as  good  as  another  in  that  raw,  hopeful, 
full-blooded  cattle  era,  which  now  the  sobered 
West  remembers  as  the  days  of  its  fond  youth. 
For  one  man  has  been  as  good  as  another  in  three 
places  —  Paradise  before  the  Fall ;  the  Rocky  \ 
Mountains  before  the  wire  fence  ;  and  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence.  And  then  this  Gov- 
ernor, beside  being  young,  almost  as  young  as 
Lin  McLean  or  the  Chief  Justice  (who  lately 
had  celebrated  his  thirty-second  birthday),  had  in 
his  doctoring  days  at  Drybone  known  the  cow- 
puncher  with  that  familiarity  which  lasts  a  life- 
time without  breeding  contempt ;  accordingly  he 
now  laid  a  hand  on  Lin's  tall  shoulder  and  drew 
him  among  the  petticoats  and  toys. 

Christmas  filled  the  windows  and  Christmas 
stirred  in  mankind.  Cheyenne,  not  over-zealous 
in  doctrine  or  litanies,  and  with  the  opinion  that 
a  world  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush, 
nevertheless  was  flocking  together,  neighbor  to 
think  of  neighbor,  and  every  one  to  remember 
the  children  ;  a  sacred  assembly,  after  all,  gath- 
ered to  rehearse  unwittingly  the  articles  of  its 
belief,  the  Creed  and  Doctrine  of  the  Child.  Lin 
saw  them  hurry  and  smile  among  the  paper 
fairies  ;  they  questioned  and  hesitated,  crowded 
and  made  decisions,  failed  utterly  to  find  the 
right  thing,  forgot  and  hastened  back,  suffered 


no  LIN  MCLEAN 

all  the  various  desperations  of  the  eleventh  hour, 
and  turned  homeward,  dropping  their  parcels 
with  that  undimmed  good-will  that  once  a  year 
makes  gracious  the  universal  human  face.  This 
brotherhood  swam  and  beamed  before  the  cow- 
puncher's  brooding  eyes,  and  in  his  ears  the 
greeting  of  the  season  sang.  Children  escaped 
from  their  mothers  and  ran  chirping  behind  the 
counters  to  touch  and  meddle  in  places  forbidden. 
Friends  dashed  against  each  other  with  rabbits 
and  magic  lanterns,  greeted  in  haste,  and  were 
gone,  amid  the  sound  of  musical  boxes. 

Through  this  tinkle  and  bleating  of  little 
machinery  the  murmur  of  the  human  heart  drift- 
ed in  and  out  of  McLean's  hearing ;  fragments 
of  home  talk,  tendernesses,  economies,  intimate 
first  names,  and  dinner  hours  ;  and  whether  it 
was  joy  or  sadness,  it  was  in  common  ;  the  world 
seemed  knit  in  a  single  skein  of  home  ties.  Two 
or  three  came  by  whose  purses  must  have  been 
slender,  and  whose  purchases  were  humble  and 
chosen  after  much  nice  adjustment ;  and  when 
one  plain  man  dropped  a  word  about  both  ends 
meeting,  and  the  woman  with  him  laid  a  hand  on 
his  arm,  saying  that  his  children  must  not  feel 
this  year  was  different,  Lin  made  a  step  toward 
them.  There  were  hours  and  spots  where  he 
could  readily  have  descended  upon  them  at  that, 
played  the  role  of  clinking  affluence,  waved 
thanks  aside  with  competent  blasphemy,  and 
tossing  off  some  infamous  whiskey,  cantered 
away  in  the  full  self-conscious  strut  of  the  fron- 
tier. But  here  was  not  the  moment ;  the  abashed 
cow-puncher  could  make  no  such  parade  in  this 


A  JOURNEY  IN   SEARCH    OF    CHRISTMAS         III 

place.  The  people  brushed  by  him  back  and 
forth,  busy  upon  their  errands,  and  aware  of  him 
scarcely  more  than  if  he  had  been  a  spirit  looking 
on  from  the  helpless  dead  ;  and  so,  while  these 
weaving-  needs  and  kindnesses  of  man  were  with- 
in arm's  touch  of  him,  he  was  locked  outside  with 
his  impulses.  Barker  had,  in  the  natural  press 
of  customers,  long  parted  from  him,  to  become 
immersed  in  choosing  and  rejecting ;  and  now, 
with  a  fair  part  of  his  mission  accomplished,  he 
was  ready  to  go  on  to  the  next  place,  and  turned 
to  beckon  McLean.  He  found  him  obliterated 
in  a  corner  beside  a  life-sized  image  of  Santa 
Glaus,  standing  as  still  as  the  frosty  saint. 

"  He  looks  livelier  than  you  do,"  said  the  hearty 
Governor.  "  'Fraid  it's  been  slow  waiting." 

"No,"  replied  the  cow-puncher,  thoughtfully. 
"  No,  I  guess  not." 

This  uncertainty  was  expressed  with  such 
gentleness  that  Barker  roared.  "  You  never  did 
lie  to  me,"  he  said,  "long  as  I've  known  you. 
Well,  never  mind.  I've  got  some  real  advice  to 
ask  you  now." 

At  this  Mr.  McLean's  face  grew  more  alert. 
"  Say  Doc,"  said  he,  "  what  do  yu'  want  for  Christ- 
mas that  nobody's  likely  to  give  yu'?" 

"  A  big  practice — big  enough  to  interfere  with 
my  politics." 

"  What  else  ?     Things  and  truck,  I  mean." 

"Oh  —  nothing  I'll  get.  People  don't  give 
things  much  to  fellows  like  me." 

"  Don't  they  ?     Don't  they  ?" 

"  Why,  you  and  Santa  Glaus  weren't  putting 
up  any  scheme  on  my  stocking  ?" 


ii2  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Well—" 

"  I  believe  you're  in  earnest !"  cried  his  Excel- 
lency. "  That's  simply  rich  !"  Here  was  a  thing 
to  relish  !  The  Frontier  comes  to  town  "  heeled 
for  a  big  time,"  finds  that  presents  are  all  the 
rage,  and  must  immediately  give  somebody  some- 
thing. Oh,  childlike,  miscellaneous  Frontier  ! 
So  thought  the  good-hearted  Governor  ;  and  it 
seems  a  venial  misconception.  "  My  dear  fellow," 
he  added,  meaning  as  well  as  possible,  "  I  don't 
want  you  to  spend  your  money  on  me." 

"  I've  got  plenty  all  right,"  said  Lin,  shortly. 

"Plenty's  not  the  point.  I'll  take  as  many 
drinks  as  you  please  with  you.  You  didn't  ex- 
pect anything  from  me  ?" 

"  That  ain't — that  don't — " 

"  There  !  Of  course  you  didn't.  Then,  what 
are  you  getting  proud  about  ?  Here's  our  shop." 
They  stepped  in  from  the  street  to  new  crowds 
and  counters.  "  Now,"  pursued  the  Governor, 
"  this  is  for  a  very  particular  friend  of  mine. 
Here  they  are.  Now,  which  of  those  do  you  like 
best  ?" 

They  were  sets  of  Tennyson  in  cases  holding 
little  volumes  equal  in  number,  but  the  binding 
various,  and  Mr.  McLean  reached  his  decision 
after  one  look.  "  That,"  said  he,  and  laid  a  large 
muscular  hand  upon  the  Laureate.  The  young 
lady  behind  the  counter  spoke  out  acidly,  and  Lin 
pulled  the  abject  hand  away.  His  taste,  however, 
happened  to  be  sound,  or,  at  least,  it  was  at  one 
with  the  Governor's  ;  but  now  they  learned  that 
there  was  a  distressing  variance  in  the  matter  of 
price. 


A   JOURNEY  IN    SEARCH    OF   CHRISTMAS         113 

The  Governor  stared  at  the  delicate  article  of 
his  choice.  "  I  know  that  Tennyson  is  what  she — 
is  what's  wanted,"  he  muttered  ;  and,  feeling  him- 
self nudged,  looked  around  and  saw  Lin's  extend- 
ed fist.  This  gesture  he  took  for  a  facetious  sym- 
pathy, and,  dolorously  grasping  the  hand,  found 
himself  holding  a  lump  of  bills.  Sheer  amaze- 
ment relaxed  him,  and  the  cow-puncher's  matted 
wealth  tumbled  on  the  floor  in  sight  of  all  people. 
Barker  picked  it  up  and  gave  it  back.  "  No,  no, 
no  !"  he  said,  mirthful  over  his  own  inclination  to 
be  annoyed ;  "  you  can't  do  that.  I'm  just  as 
much  obliged,  Lin,"  he  added. 

"Just  as  a  loan,  Doc — some  of  it.  I'm  grass- 
bellied  with  spot-cash." 

A  giggle  behind  the  counter  disturbed  them 
both,  but  the  sharp  young  lady  was  only  dusting. 
The  Governor  at  once  paid  haughtily  for  Ten- 
nyson's expensive  works,  and  the  cow-puncher 
pushed  his  discountenanced  savings  back  into 
his  clothes.  Making  haste  to  leave  the  book  de- 
partment of  this  shop,  they  regained  a  mutual 
ease,  and  the  Governor  became  waggish  over  Lin's 
concern  at  being  too  rich.  He  suggested  to  him 
the  list  of  delinquent  taxpayers  and  the  latest 
census  from  which  to  select  indigent  persons.  He 
had  patients,  too,  whose  inveterate  pennilessness 
he  could  swear  cheerfully  to — "  since  you  want  to 
bolt  from  your  own  money,"  he  remarked. 

"  Yes,  I'm  a  green  horse,"  assented  Mr.  McLean, 
gallantly  ;  "  ain't  used  to  the  looks  of  a  twenty- 
dollar  bill,  and  I  shy  at  'em." 

From  his  face — that  jocular  mask — one  might 
have  counted  him  the  most  serene  and  careless 

8 


ii4  LIN  MCLEAN 

of  vagrants,  and  in  his  words  only  the  ordinary 
voice  of  banter  spoke  to  the  Governor.  A  good 
woman,  it  may  well  be,  would  have  guessed  be- 
fore this  the  sensitive  soul  in  the  blundering 
body  ;  but  Barker  saw  just  the  familiar,  whimsi- 
cal, happy-go-lucky  McLean  of  old  days,  and  so 
he  went  gayly  and  innocently  on,  treading  upon 
holy  ground.  "  I've  got  it !"  he  exclaimed  ;  "  give 
your  wife  something." 

The  ruddy  cow  -  puncher  grinned.  He  had 
passed  through  the  world  of  woman  with  but  few 
delays,  rejoicing  in  informal  and  transient  entan- 
glements, and  he  welcomed  the  turn  which  the 
conversation  seemed  now  to  be  taking.  "  If  you'll 
give  me  her  name  and  address,"  said  he,  with  the 
future  entirely  in  his  mind. 

"Why,  Laramie  !"  and  the  Governor  feigned 
surprise. 

"  Say,  Doc,"  said  Lin,  uneasily,  "  none  of  'em 
'ain't  married  me  since  I  saw  yu'  last." 

"  Then  she  hasn't  written  from  Laramie,"  said 
the  hilarious  Governor  ;  and  Mr.  McLean  under- 
stood and  winced  in  his  spirit  deep  down.  "  Gee 
whiz !"  went  on  Barker,  "  I'll  never  forget  you 
and  Lusk  that  day  !" 

But  the  mask  fell  now.  "  You're  talking  of  his 
wife,  not  mine,"  said  the  cow-puncher  very  quietly, 
and  smiling  no  more;  "and,  Doc,  I'm  going  to 
say  a  word  to  yu',  for  I  know  yu've  always  been 
my  good  friend.  I'll  never  forget  that  day  my- 
self— but  I  don't  want  to  be  reminded  of  it." 

"  I'm  a  fool,  Lin,"  said  the  Governor,  generous 
instantly.  "  I  never  supposed — " 

"  I  know  yu'  didn't,  Doc.     It  ain't  you  that's 


A  JOURNEY   IN   SEARCH   OF   CHRISTMAS         115 

the  fool.  And  in  a  way — in  a  way — "  Lin's 
speech  ended  among  his  crowding  memories,  and 
Barker,  seeing  how  wistful  his  face  had  turned, 
waited.  "  But  I  ain't  quite  the  same  fool  I  was 
before  that  happened  to  me,"  the  cow-puncher 
resumed,  "  though  maybe  my  actions  don't  show 
to  be  wiser.  I  know  that  there  was  better  luck 
than  a  man  like  me  had  any  call  to  look  for." 

The  sobered  Barker  said,  simply,  "Yes,  Lin." 
He  was  put  to  thinking  by  these  words  from  the 
unsuspected  inner  man. 

Out  in  the  Bow  Leg  country  Lin  McLean  had 
met  a  woman  with  thick,  red  cheeks,  calling  her- 
self by  a  maiden  name  ;  and  this  was  his  whole 
knowledge  of  her  when  he  put  her  one  morning 
astride  a  Mexican  saddle  and  took  her  fifty  miles 
to  a  magistrate  and  made  her  his  lawful  wife  to 
the  best  of  his  ability  and  belief.  His  sage-brush 
intimates  were  confident  he  would  never  have 
done  it  but  for  a  rival.  Racing  the  rival  and 
beating  him  had  swept  Mr.  McLean  past  his  own 
intentions,  and  the  marriage  was  an  inadvertence. 
"  He  jest  bumped  into  it  before  he  could  pull  up," 
they  explained  ;  and  this  casualty,  resulting  from 
Mr.  McLean's  sporting  blood,  had  entertained 
several  hundred  square  miles  of  alkali.  For  the 
new-made  husband  the  joke  soon  died.  In  the 
immediate  weeks  that  came  upon  him  he  tasted 
a  bitterness  worse  than  in  all  his  life  before,  and 
learned  also  how  deep  the  woman,  when  once  she 
begins,  can  sink  beneath  the  man  in  baseness. 
That  was  a  knowledge  of  which  he  had  lived  in- 
nocent until  this  time.  But  he  carried  his  out- 
ward self  serenely,  so  that  citizens  in  Cheyenne 


n6  LIN  MCLEAN 

who  saw  the  cow-puncher  with  his  bride  argued 
shrewdly  that  men  of  that  sort  liked  women  of 
that  sort ;  and  before  the  strain  had  broken  his 
endurance  an  unexpected  first  husband,  named 
Lusk,  had  appeared  one  Sunday  in  the  street, 
prosperous,  forgiving,  and  exceedingly  drunk. 
To  the  arms  of  Lusk  she  went  back  in  the  pub- 
lic street,  deserting  McLean  in  the  presence  of 
Cheyenne  ;  and  when  Cheyenne  saw  this,  and 
learned  how  she  had  been  Mrs.  Lusk  for  eight 
long,  if  intermittent,  years,  Cheyenne  laughed 
loudly.  Lin  McLean  laughed,  too,  and  went 
about  his  business,  ready  to  swagger  at  the  nec- 
essary moment,  and  with  the  necessary  kind  of 
joke  always  ready  to  shield  his  hurt  spirit.  And 
soon,  of  course,  the  matter  grew  stale,  seldom 
raked  up  in  the  Bow  Leg  country  where  Lin  had 
been  at  work  ;  so  lately  he  had  begun  to  remem- 
ber other  things  beside  the  smouldering  humil- 
iation. 

"  Is  she  with  him  ?"  he  asked  Barker,  and  mus- 
ingly listened  while  Barker  told  him.  The  Gov- 
ernor had  thought  to  make  it  a  racy  story,  with 
the  moral  that  the  joke  was  now  on  Lusk ;  but 
that  inner  man  had  spoken  and  revealed  the  cow- 
puncher  to  him  in  a  new  and  complicated  light ; 
hence  he  quieted  the  proposed  lively  cadence  and 
vocabulary  of  his  anecdote  about  the  house  of 
Lusk,  but  instead  of  narrating  how  Mrs.  beat  Mr. 
on  Mondays,  Wednesdays,  and  Fridays,  and  Mr. 
took  his  turn  the  odd  days,  thus  getting  one 
ahead  of  his  lady,  while  the  kid  Lusk  had  out- 
lined his  opinion  of  the  family  by  recently  skip- 
ping to  parts  unknown,  Barker  detailed  these 


A  JOURNEY   IN    SEARCH    OP    CHRISTMAS         117 

incidents  more  gravely,  adding  that  Laramie  be- 
lieved Mrs.  Lusk  addicted  to  opium. 

"  I  don't  guess  I'll  leave  my  card  on  'em,"  said 
McLean,  grimly,  "if  I  strike  Laramie." 

"  You  don't  mind  my  saying  I  think  you're  well 
out  of  that  scrape  ?"  Barker  ventured. 

"  Shucks,  no  !  That's  all  right,  Doc.  Only — 
yu'  see  now.  A  man  gets  tired  pretending — onced 
in  a  while." 

Time  had  gone  while  they  were  in  talk,  and  it 
was  now  half  after  one  and  Mr.  McLean  late  for 
that  long-plotted  first  square  meal.  So  the  friends 
shook  hands,  wishing  each  other  Merry  Christ- 
mas, and  the  cow-puncher  hastened  toward  his 
chosen  companions  through  the  stirring  cheerful- 
ness of  the  season.  His  play-hour  had  made  a 
dull  beginning  among  the  toys.  He  had  come 
upon  people  engaged  in  a  pleasant  game,  and 
waited,  shy  and  well  disposed,  for  some  bidding 
to  join,  but  they  had  gone  on  playing  with  each 
other  and  left  him  out.  And  now  he  went  along 
in  a  sort  of  hurry  to  escape  from  that  loneliness 
where  his  human  promptings  had  been  lodged 
with  him  useless.  Here  was  Cheyenne,  full  of 
holiday  for  sale,  and  he  with  his  pockets  full  of 
money  to  buy  ;  and  when  he  thought  of  Shorty, 
and  Chalkeye,  and  Dollar  Bill,  those  dandies  to  hit 
a  town  with,  he  stepped  out  with  a  brisk,  false 
hope.  It  was  with  a  mental  hurrah  and  a  fore- 
taste of  a  good  time  coming  that  he  put  on  his 
town  clothes,  after  shaving  and  admiring  himself, 
and  sat  down  to  the  square  meal.  He  ate  away 
and  drank  with  a  robust  imitation  of  enjoyment 
that  took  in  even  himself  at  first.  But  the  sor- 


n8  LIN  MCLEAN 

rowful  process  of  his  spirit  went  on,  for  all  he 
could  do.  As  he  groped  for  the  contentment 
which  he  saw  around  him  he  began  to  receive  the 
jokes  with  counterfeit  mirth.  Memories  took  the 
place  of  anticipation,  and  through  their  moody 
shiftings  he  began  to  feel  a  distaste  for  the  com- 
pany of  his  friends  and  a  shrinking  from  their 
lively  voices.  He  blamed  them  for  this  at  once. 
He  was  surprised  to  think  he  had  never  recog- 
nized before  how  light  a  weight  was  Shorty  ;  and 
here  was  Chalkeye,  who  knew  better,  talking  re- 
ligion after  two  glasses.  Presently  this  attack  of 
noticing  his  friends'  shortcomings  mastered  him, 
and  his  mind,  according  to  its  wont,  changed  at 
a  stroke.  "I'm  celebrating  no  Christmas  with 
this  crowd,"  said  the  inner  man  ;  and  when  they 
had  next  remembered  Lin  McLean  in  their  hilar- 
ity he  was  gone. 

Governor  Barker,  finishing  his  purchases  at 
half-past  three,  went  to  meet  a  friend  come  from 
Evanston.  Mr.  McLean  was  at  the  railway  sta- 
tion, buying  a  ticket  for  Denver. 

"  Denver  !"  exclaimed  the  amazed  Governor. 

"  That's  what  I  said,"  stated  Mr.  McLean,  dog- 
gedly. 

"  Gee  whiz  !"  went  his  Excellency.  "  What  are 
you  going  to  do  there  ?" 

"  Get  good  and  drunk." 

"Can't  you  find  enough  whiskey  in  Chey- 
enne?" 

"  I'm  drinking  champagne  this  trip." 

The  cow-puncher  went  out  on  the  platform  and 
got  aboard,  and  the  train  moved  off.  Barker  had 
walked  out  too  in  his  surprise,  and  as  he  stared 


A  JOURNEY   IN    SEARCH    OF    CHRISTMAS         119 

after  the  last  car,  Mr.  McLean  waved  his  wide  hat 
defiantly  and  went  inside  the  door. 

"  And  he  says  he's  got  maturity,"  Barker  mut- 
tered. "  I've  known  him  since  seventy-nine,  and 
he's  kept  about  eight  years  old  right  along."  The 
Governor  was  cross,  and  sorry,  and  presently 
crosser.  His  jokes  about  Lin's  marriage  came 
back  to  him  and  put  him  in  a  rage  with  the  de- 
parted fool.  "Yes,  about  eight.  Or  six,"  said 
his  Excellency,  justifying  himself  by  the  past. 
For  he  had  first  known  Lin,  the  boy  of  nine- 
teen, supreme  in  length  of  limb  and  reckless- 
ness, breaking  horses  and  feeling  for  an  early 
mustache.  Next,  when  the  mustache  was  nearly 
accomplished,  he  had  mended  the  boy's  badly 
broken  thigh  at  Drybone.  His  skill  (and  Lin's 
utter  health)  had  wrought  so  swift  a  healing  that 
the  surgeon  overflowed  with  the  pride  of  science, 
and  over  the  bandages  would  explain  the  human 
body  technically  to  his  wild-eyed  and  flattered  pa- 
tient. Thus  young  Lin  heard  all  about  tibia,  and 
comminuted,  and  other  glorious  new  words,  and 
when  sleepless  would  rehearse  them.  Then,  with 
the  bone  so  nearly  knit  that  the  patient  might 
leave  the  ward  on  crutches  to  sit  each  morning 
in  Barker's  room  as  a  privilege,  the  disobedient 
child  of  twenty-one  had  slipped  out  of  the  hospi- 
tal and  hobbled  hastily  to  the  hog  ranch,  where 
whiskey  and  variety  waited  for  a  languishing 
convalescent.  Here  he  grew  gay,  and  was  soon 
carried  back  with  the  leg  refractured.  Yet  Bar- 
ker's surgical  rage  was  disarmed,  the  patient  was 
so  forlorn  over  his  doctor's  professional  chagrin. 

"  I  suppose   it   ain't  no   better  this   morning, 


120  LIN  MCLEAN 

Doc  ?"  he  had  said,  humbly,  after  a  new  week  of 
bed  and  weights. 

"  Your  right  leg's  going  to  be  shorter.  That's 
all." 

"  Oh,  gosh  !  I've  been  and  spoiled  your  com- 
minuted fee-mur  !  Ain't  I  a  son-of-a-gun  ?" 

You  could  not  chide  such  a  boy  as  this ;  and 
in  time's  due  course  he  had  walked  jauntily  out 
into  the  world  with  legs  of  equal  length  after  all, 
and  in  his  stride  the  slightest  halt  possible.  And 
Doctor  Barker  had  missed  the  child's  conversa- 
tion. To-day  his  mustache  was  a  perfected  thing, 
and  he  in  the  late  end  of  his  twenties. 

"  He'll  wake  up  about  noon  to-morrow  in  a  dive, 
without  a  cent,"  said  Barker.  "  Then  he'll  come 
back  on  a  freight  and  begin  over  again." 

At  the  Denver  station  Lin  McLean  passed 
through  the  shoutings  and  omnibuses,  and  came 
to  the  beginning  of  Seventeenth  Street,  where  is 
the  first  saloon.  A  customer  was  ordering  Hot 
Scotch  ;  and  because  he  liked  the  smell  and  had 
not  thought  of  the  mixture  for  a  number  of 
years,  Lin  took  Hot  Scotch.  Coming  out  upon 
the  pavement,  he  looked  across  and  saw  a  saloon 
opposite  with  brighter  globes  and  windows  more 
prosperous.  That  should  have  been  his  choice  ; 
lemon  peel  would  undoubtedly  be  fresher  over 
there  ;  and  over  he  went  at  once,  to  begin  the 
whole  thing  properly.  In  such  frozen  weather 
no  drink  could  be  more  timely,  and  he  sat,  to  en- 
joy without  haste  its  mellow  fitness.  Once  again 
on  the  pavement,  he  looked  along  the  street  tow- 
ard up -town  beneath  the  crisp,  cold  electric 
lights,  and  three  little  bootblacks  gathered  where 


A  JOURNEY    IN    SEARCH    OF    CHRISTMAS         121 

he  stood  and  cried  "Shine?  Shine?"  at  him. 
Remembering  that  you  took  the  third  turn  to 
the  right  to  get  the  best  dinner  in  Denver,  Lin 
hit  on  the  skilful  plan  of  stopping  at  all  Hot 
Scotches  between  ;  but  the  next  occurred  within 
a  few  yards,  and  it  was  across  the  street.  This 
one  being  attained  and  appreciated,  he  found 
that  he  must  cross  back  again  or  skip  number 
four.  At  this  rate  he  would  not  be  dining  in 
time  to  see  much  of  the  theatre,  and  he  stopped 
to  consider.  It  was  a  German  place  he  had  just 
quitted,  and  a  huge  light  poured  out  on  him  from 
its  window,  which  the  proprietor's  father  -  land 
sentiment  had  made  into  a  show.  Lights  shone 
among  a  well-set  pine  forest,  where  beery,  jovial 
gnomes  sat  on  roots  and  reached  upward  to  San- 
ta Claus  ;  he,  grinning,  fat,  and  Teutonic,  held  in 
his  right  hand  forever  a  foaming  glass,  and  for- 
ever in  his  left  a  string  of  sausages  that  dangled 
down  among  the  gnomes.  With  his  American 
back  to  this,  the  cow-puncher,  wearing  the  same 
serious,  absent  .face  he  had  not  changed  since  he 
ran  away  from  himself  at  Cheyenne,  considered 
carefully  the  Hot  Scotch  question,  and  which 
side  of  the  road  to  take  and  stick  to,  while  the 
little  bootblacks  found  him  once  more  and  cried, 
"  Shine  ?  Shine  ?"  monotonous  as  snow-birds.  He 
settled  to  stay  over  here  with  the  south  -  side 
Scotches,  and  the  little  one-note  song  reaching 
his  attention,  he  suddenly  shoved  his  foot  at  the 
nearest  boy,  who  lightly  sprang  away. 

"  Dare  you  to  touch  him  !"  piped  a  snow-bird, 
dangerously.  They  were  in  short  trousers,  and 
the  eldest  enemy,  it  may  be,  was  ten. 


122  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Don't  hit  me,"  said  Mr.  McLean.  "I'm  inno- 
cent." 

"  Well,  you  leave  him  be,"  said  one. 

"  What's  he  layin'  to  kick  you  for,  Billy  ? 
'Tain't  yer  pop,  is  it  ?" 

"  Naw  !"  said  Billy,  in  scorn.  "  Father  never 
kicked  me.  Don't  know  who  he  is." 

"  He's  a  special !"  shrilled  the  leading  bird,  sen- 
sationally. "  He's  got  a  badge,  and  he's  goin'  to 
arrest  yer." 

Two  of  them  hopped  instantly  to  the  safe  mid- 
dle of  the  street,  and  scattered  with  practised 
strategy  ;  but  Billy  stood  his  ground.  "  Dare  you 
to  arrest  me  !"  said  he. 

"What  '11  you  give  me  not  to?"  inquired  Lin, 
and  he  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  arms  akimbo. 

"  Nothing  ;  I've  done  nothing,"  announced  Bil- 
ly, firmly.  But  even  in  the  last  syllable  his  voice 
suddenly  failed,  a  terror  filled  his  eyes,  and  he, 
too,  sped  into  the  middle  of  the  street. 

"What's  he  claim  you  lifted?"  inquired  the 
leader,  with  eagerness.  "  Tell  him  you  haven't 
been  inside  a  store  to-day.  We  can  prove  it !" 
they  screamed  to  the  special  officer. 

"  Say,"  said  the  slow  -  spoken  Lin  from  the 
pavement,  "you're  poor  judges  of  a  badge,  you 
fellows." 

His  tone  pleased  them  where  they  stood,  wide 
apart  from  each  other. 

Mr.  McLean  also  remained  stationary  in  the 
bluish  illumination  of  the  window.  "  Why,  if  any 
policeman  was  caught  wearin'  this  here,"  said  he, 
following  his  sprightly  invention,  "he'd  get  ar- 
rested himself." 


A  JOURNEY   IN   SEARCH    OF   CHRISTMAS         123 

This  struck  them  extremely.  They  began  to 
draw  together,  Billy  lingering  the  last. 

"If  it's  your  idea,"  pursued  Mr.  McLean,  al- 
luringly, as  the  three  took  cautious  steps  nearer 
the  curb,  "  that  blue,  clasped  hands  in  a  circle  of 
red  stars  gives  the  bearer  the  right  to  put  folks 
in  the  jug — why,  I'll  get  somebody  else  to  black 
my  boots  for  a  dollar." 

The  three  made  a  swift  rush,  fell  on  simul- 
taneous knees,  and  clattering  their  boxes  down, 
began  to  spit  in  an  industrious  circle. 

"  Easy !"  wheedled  Mr.  McLean,  and  they 
looked  up  at  him,  staring  and  fascinated.  "  Not 
having  three  feet,"  said  the  cow-puncher,  always 
grave  and  slow,  "  I  can  only  give  two  this  here 
job." 

"  He's  got  a  big  pistol  and  a  belt !"  exulted  the 
leader,  who  had  precociously  felt  beneath  Lin's 
coat. 

"You're  a  smart  boy,"  said  Lin,  considering 
him,  "  and  yu'  find  a  man  out  right  away.  Now 
you  stand  off  and  tell  me  all  about  myself  while 
they  fix  the  boots — and  a  dollar  goes  to  the  quick- 
est through." 

Young  Billy  and  his  tow -headed  competitor 
flattened  down,  each  to  a  boot,  with  all  their 
might,  while  the  leader  ruefully  contemplated 
Mr.  McLean. 

"  That's  a  Colt  .45  you've  got,"  ventured  he. 

"  Right  again.  Some  day,  maybe,  you'll  be 
wearing  one  of  your  own,  if  the  angels  don't  pull 
yu'  before  you're  ripe." 

"  I'm  through  !"  sang  out  Towhead,  rising  in 
haste. 


124  LIN  MCLEAN 

Small  Billy  was  struggling  still,  but  leaped  at 
that,  the  two  heads  bobbing  to  a  level  together  ; 
and  Mr.  McLean,  looking  down,  saw  that  the 
arrangement  had  not  been  a  good  one  for  the 
boots. 

"Will  you  kindly  referee,"  said  he,  forgivingly, 
to  the  leader,  "  and  decide  which  of  them  smears 
is  the  awfulest?" 

But  the  leader  looked  the  other  way  and  played 
upon  a  mouth-organ. 

"  Well,  that  saves  me  money,"  said  Mr.  McLean, 
jingling  his  pocket.  "  I  guess  you've  both  won." 
He  handed  each  of  them  a  dollar.  "  Now,"  he 
continued,  "  I  just  dassent  show  these  boots  up- 
town ;  so  this  time  it's  a  dollar  for  the  best  shine." 

The  two  went  palpitating  at  their  brushes 
again,  and  the  leader  played  his  mouth  -  organ 
with  brilliant  unconcern.  Lin,  tall  and  brooding, 
leaned  against  the  jutting  sill  of  the  window,  a 
figure  somehow  plainly  strange  in  town,  while 
through  the  bright  plate-glass  Santa  Claus,  hold- 
ing out  his  beer  and  sausages,  perpetually  beamed. 

Billy  was  laboring  gallantly,  but  it  was  labor, 
the  cow-puncher  perceived,  and  Billy  no  seasoned 
expert.  "  See  here,"  said  Lin,  stooping,  "  I'll  show 
yu'  how  it's  done.  He's  playin'  that  toon  cross- 
eyed enough  to  steer  anybody  crooked.  There. 
Keep  your  blacking  soft,  and  work  with  a  dry 
brush." 

"  Lemme,"  said  Billy.  "  I've  got  to  learn." 
So  he  finished  the  boot  his  own  way  with  wiry 
determination,  breathing  and  repolishing  ;  and 
this  event  was  also  adjudged  a  dead  heat,  with 
results  gratifying  to  both  parties.  So  here  was 


A  JOURNEY    IN    SEARCH    OP    CHRISTMAS         125 

their  work  done,  and  more  money  in  their  pock- 
ets than  from  all  the  other  boots  and  shoes  of 
this  day  ;  and  Towhead  and  Billy  did  not  wish  for 
further  trade,  but  to  spend  this  handsome  fort- 
une as  soon  as  might  be.  Yet  they  delayed  in 
the  brightness  of  the  window,  drawn  by  curiosity 
near  this  new  kind  of  man  whose  voice  held 
them  and  whose  remarks  dropped  them  into  con- 
stant uncertainty.  Even  the  omitted  leader  had 
been  unable  to  go  away  and  nurse  his  pride 
alone. 

"  Is  that  a  secret  society  ?"  inquired  Towhead, 
lifting  a  finger  at  the  badge. 

Mr.  McLean  nodded.     "  Turruble,"  said  he. 

"  You're  a  Wells  &  Fargo  detective,"  asserted 
the  leader. 

"  Play  your  harp,"  said  Lin. 

"Are  you  a — a  desperaydo?"  whispered  Tow- 
head. 

"  Oh,  my !"  observed  Mr.  McLean,  sadly ; 
"  what  has  our  Jack  been  readin'  ?" 

"  He's  a  cattle-man  !"  cried  Billy.  "  I  seen  his 
heels." 

"That's  you!"  said  the  discovered  puncher, 
with  approval.  "  You'll  do.  But  I  bet  you  can't 
tell  me  what  we  wearers  of  this  badge  have  sworn 
to  do  this  night." 

At  this  they  craned  their  necks  and  glared  at 
him. 

"We — are — sworn — don't  yu'  jump,  now,  and 
give  me  away — sworn — to — blow  off  three  boot- 
blacks to  a  dinner." 

"  Ah,  pshaw  !"  They  backed  away,  bristling 
with  distrust. 


126  LIN   McLEAN 

"That's  the  oath,  fellows.  Yu'  may  as  well 
make  your  minds  up— for  I  have  it  to  do  /" 

"  Dare  you  to  !     Ah  !" 

"  And  after  dinner  it's  the  Opera-house,  to  see 
"  The  Children  of  Captain  Grant ' !" 

They  screamed  shrilly  at  him,  keeping  off  be- 
yond the  curb. 

"  I  can't  waste  my  time  on  such  smart  boys," 
said  Mr.  McLean,  rising  lazily  to  his  full  height 
from  the  window-sill.  "  I  am  goin'  somewhere  to 
find  boys  that  ain't  so  turruble  quick  stampeded 
by  a  roast  turkey." 

He  began  to  lounge  slowly  away,  serious  as  he 
had  been  throughout,  and  they,  stopping  their 
noise  short,  swiftly  picked  up  their  boxes,  and 
followed  him.  Some  change  in  the  current  of 
electricity  that  fed  the  window  disturbed  its 
sparkling  light,  so  that  Santa  Claus,  with  his 
arms  stretched  out  behind  the  departing  cow- 
puncher,  seemed  to  be  smiling  more  broadly  from 
the  midst  of  his  flickering  brilliance. 

On  their  way  to  turkey,  the  host  and  his  guests 
exchanged  but  few  remarks.  He  was  full  of 
good-will,  and  threw  off  a  comment  or  two  that 
would  have  led  to  conversation  under  almost  any 
circumstances  save  these  ;  but  the  minds  of  the 
guests  were  too  distracted  by  this  whole  state  of 
things  for  them  to  be  capable  of  more  than  keep- 
ing after  Mr.  McLean  in  silence,  at  a  wary  inter- 
val, and  with  their  mouths,  during  most  of  the 
journey,  open.  The  badge,  the  pistol,  their  pa- 
tron's talk,  and  the  unusual  dollars,  wakened 
wide  their  bent  for  the  unexpected,  their  street 
affinity  for  the  spur  of  the  moment ;  they  be- 


A  JOURNEY    IN   SEARCH    OP   CHRISTMAS         127 

lieved  slimly  in  the  turkey  part  of  it,  but  what 
this  man  might  do  next,  to  be  there  when  he  did 
it,  and  not  to  be  trapped,  kept  their  wits  jump- 
ing deliciously  ;  so  when  they  saw  him  stop,  they 
stopped  instantly  too,  ten  feet  out  of  reach.  This 
was  Denver's  most  civilized  restaurant — that  one 
which  Mr.  McLean  had  remembered,  with  foreign 
dishes  and  private  rooms,  where  he  had  promised 
himself,  among  other  things,  champagne.  Mr. 
McLean  had  never  been  inside  it,  but  heard  a 
tale  from  a  friend  ;  and  now  he  caught  a  sudden 
sight  of  people  among  geraniums,  with  plumes 
and  white  shirt-fronts,  very  elegant.  It  must 
have  been  several  minutes  that  he  stood  contem- 
plating the  entrance  and  the  luxurious  couples 
who  went  in. 

"  Plumb  French  !"  he  observed  at  length  ;  and 
then,  "  Shucks  !"  in  a  key  less  confident,  while 
his  guests  ten  feet  away  watched  him  narrowly. 
"  They're  eatin'  patty  de  parley-voo  in  there,"  he 
muttered,  and  the  three  bootblacks  came  beside 
him.  "  Say,  fellows,"  said  Lin,  confidingly,  "  I 
wasn't  raised  good  enough  for  them  dude  dishes. 
What  do  yu'  say  !  I'm  after  a  place  where  yu' 
can  mention  oyster  stoo  without  givin'  anybody 
a  fit.  What  do  yu'  say,  boys  ?" 

That  lighted  the  divine  spark  of  brother- 
hood ! 

"  Ah,  you  come  along  with  us — we'll  take  yer  ! 
You  don't  want  to  go  in  there.  We'll  show  yer 
the  boss  place  in  Market  Street.  We  won't  lose 
yer."  So,  shouting  together  in  their  shrill  little 
city  trebles,  they  clustered  about  him,  and  one 
pulled  at  his  coat  to  start  him.  He  started  obe- 


128  LIN  MCLEAN 

diently,  and  walked  in  their  charge,  they  leading 
the  way. 

"  Christmas  is  comin'  now,  sure,"  said  Lin,  grin- 
ning to  himself.  "  It  ain't  exactly  what  I  figured 
on."  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  laughed  since 
Cheyenne,  and  he  brushed  a  hand  over  his  eyes, 
that  were  dim  with  the  new  warmth  in  his  heart. 

Believing  at  length  in  him  and  his  turkey,  the 
alert  street  faces,  so  suspicious  of  the  unknown, 
looked  at  him  with  ready  intimacy  as  they  went 
along ;  and  soon,  in  the  friendly  desire  to  make 
him  acquainted  with  Denver,  the  three  were  pa- 
tronizing him.  Only  Billy,  perhaps,  now  and  then 
stole  at  him  a  doubtful  look. 

The  large  Country  Mouse  listened  solemnly  to 
his  three  Town  Mice,  who  presently  introduced 
him  to  the  place  in  Market  Street.  It  was  not 
boss,  precisely,  and  Denver  knows  better  neigh- 
borhoods ;  but  the  turkey  and  the  oyster  stew 
were  there,  with  catsup  and  vegetables  in  season, 
and  several  choices  of  pie.  Here  the  Country 
Mouse  became  again  efficient ;  and  to  witness 
his  liberal  mastery  of  ordering  and  imagine  his 
pocket  and  its  wealth,  which  they  had  heard  and 
partly  seen,  renewed  in  the  guests  a  transient 
awe.  As  they  dined,  however,  and  found  the 
host  as  frankly  ravenous  as  themselves,  this  reti- 
cence evaporated,  and  they  all  grew  fluent  with 
oaths  and  opinions.  At  one  or  two  words,  indeed, 
Mr.  McLean  stared  and  had  a  slight  sense  of 
blushing. 

"  Have  a  cigarette  ?"  said  the  leader,  over  his 
pie. 

"  Thank   yu',"  said   Lin.     "  I  won't   smoke,  if 


A  JOURNEY   IN    SEARCH    OP   CHRISTMAS         129 

yu'll  excuse  me."  He  had  devised  a  wholesome 
meal,  with  water  to  drink. 

"Chewin's  no  good  at  meals,"  continued  the 
boy.  "  Don't  you  use  tobaccer  ?" 

"  Onced  in  a  while." 

The  leader  spat  brightly.  "  He  'ain't  learned 
yet,"  said  he,  slanting  his  elbows  at  Billy  and 
sliding  a  match  over  his  rump.  "  But  beer,  now 
— I  never  seen  anything  in  it."  He  and  Tow- 
head  soon  left  Billy  and  his  callow  profanities  be- 
hind, and  engaged  in  a  town  conversation  that 
silenced  him,  and  set  him  listening  with  all  his 
admiring  young  might.  Nor  did  Mr.  McLean 
join  in  the  talk,  but  sat  embarrassed  by  this 
knowledge,  which  seemed  about  as  much  as  he 
knew  himself. 

"  I'll  be  goshed,"  he  thought,  "  if  I'd  caught  on 
to  half  that  when  I  was  streakin'  around  in  short 
pants  !  Maybe  they  grow  up  quicker  now."  But 
now  the  Country  Mouse  perceived  Billy's  eager 
and  attentive  apprenticeship.  "  Hello,  boys  !"  he 
said,  "  that  theatre's  got  a  big  start  on  us." 

They  had  all  forgotten  he  had  said  anything 
about  theatre  ;  and  other  topics  left  their  im- 
patient minds,  while  the  Country  Mouse  paid  the 
bill  and  asked  to  be  guided  to  the  Opera-house. 
"This  man  here  will  look  out  for  your  blackin' 
and  truck,  and  let  yu'  have  it  in  the  morning." 

They  were  very  late.  The  spectacle  had  ad- 
vanced far  into  passages  of  the  highest  thrill, 
and  Denver's  eyes  were  riveted  upon  a  ship  and 
some  icebergs.  The  party  found  its  seats  during 
several  beautiful  lime-light  effects,  and  that  re- 
markable fly  -  buzzing  of  violins  which  is  pro- 


130  LIN  MCLEAN 

nounced  so  helpful  in  times  of  peril  and  senti- 
ment. The  children  of  Captain  Grant  had  been 
tracking  their  father  all  over  the  equator  and 
other  scenic  spots,  and  now  the  north  pole  was 
about  to  impale  them.  The  Captain's  youngest 
child,  perceiving  a  hummock  rushing  at  them 
with  a  sudden  motion,  loudly  shouted,  "  Sister, 
the  ice  is  closing  in  !"  and  she  replied,  chastely, 
"Then  let  us  pray."  It  was  a  superb  tableau: 
the  ice  split,  and  the  sun  rose  and  joggled  at  once 
to  the  zenith.  The  act-drop  fell,  and  male  Den- 
ver, wrung  to  its  religious  deeps,  went  out  to  the 
rum-shop. 

Of  course  Mr.  McLean  and  his  party  did  not 
do  this.  The  party  had  applauded  exceedingly 
the  defeat  of  the  elements,  and  the  leader,  with 
Towhead,  discussed  the  probable  chances  of  the 
ship's  getting  farther  south  in  the  next  act.  Un- 
til lately  Billy's  doubt  of  the  cow-puncher  had 
lingered  ;  but  during  this  intermission  whatever 
had  been  holding  out  in  him  seemed  won,  and  in 
his  eyes,  that  he  turned  stealthily  upon  his  un- 
conscious, quiet  neighbor,  shone  the  beginnings 
of  hero-worship. 

"  Don't  you  think  this  is  splendid  ?"  said  he. 

"  Splendid,"  Lin  replied,  a  trifle  remotely. 

"  Don't  you  like  it  when  they  all  get  balled  up 
and  get  out  that  way  ?" 

"  Humming,"  said  Lin. 

"  Don't  you  guess  it's  just  girls,  though,  that 
do  that  ?" 

"  What,  young  fellow  ?" 

"  Why,  all  that  prayer-saying  an'  stuff." 

"  I  guess  it  must  be." 


A  JOURNEY   IN   SEARCH    OF   CHRISTMAS         131 

"  She  said  to  do  it  when  the  ice  scared  her,  an' 
of  course  a  man  had  to  do  what  she  wanted  him." 

"  Sure." 

"  Well,  do  you  believe  they'd  'a'  done  it  if  she 
hadn't  been  on  that  boat,  an'  clung  around  an' 
cried  an'  everything,  an'  made  her  friends  feel 
bad  ?" 

"  I  hardly  expect  they  would,"  replied  the  hon- 
est Lin,  and  then,  suddenly  mindful  of  Billy,  "  ex- 
cept there  wasn't  nothin'  else  they  could  think 
of,"  he  added,  wishing  to  speak  favorably  of  the 
custom. 

"  Why,  that  chunk  of  ice  weren't  so  awful  big 
anyhow.  I'd  'a'  shoved  her  off  with  a  pole. 
Wouldn't  you  ?" 

"  Butted  her  like  a  ram,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mc- 
Lean. 

"Well,  I  don't  say  my  prayers  any  more.  I 
told  Mr.  Perkins  I  wasn't  a-going  to,  an'  he — 
I  think  he  is  a  flubdub  anyway." 

"  I'll  bet  he  is  !"  said  Lin,  sympathetically.  He 
was  scarcely  a  prudent  guardian. 

"  I  told  him  straight,  an'  he  looked  at  me  an' 
down  he  flops  on  his  knees.  An'  he  made  'em  all 
flop,  but  I  told  him  I  didn't  care  for  them  putting 
up  any  camp-meeting  over  me  ;  an'  he  says,  '  I'll 
lick  you,'  an'  I  says,  4  Dare  you  to  !'  I  told  him 
mother  kep'  a-licking  me  for  nothing,  an'  I'd  not 
pray  for  her,  not  in  Sunday-school  or  anywheres 
else.  Do  you  pray  much  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  Lin,  uneasily. 

"  There  !  I  told  him  a  man  didn't,  an'  he  said 
then  a  man  went  to  hell.  *  You  lie  ;  father  ain't 
going  to  hell,'  I  says,  and  you'd  ought  to  heard 


132  LIN   McLEAN 

the  first  class  laugh  right  out  loud,  girls  an'  boys. 
An'  he  was  that  mad  !  But  I  didn't  care.  I  came 
here  with  fifty  cents." 

"  Yu'  must  have  felt  like  a  millionaire." 

"  Ah,  I  felt  all  right!  I  bought  papers  an'  sold 
'em,  an'  got  more  an'  saved,  an'  got  my  box  an' 
blacking  outfit.  I  weren't  going  to  be  licked  by 
her  just  because  she  felt  like  it,  an'  she  feel- 
ing like  it  most  any  time.  Lemme  see  your 
pistol." 

"  You  wait,"  said  Lin.  "  After  this  show  is 
through  I'll  put  it  on  you." 

"  Will  you,  honest  ?  Belt  an'  everything  ?  Did 
you  ever  shoot  a  bear?" 

"Lord!  lots." 

"  Honest  ?     Silver-tips  ?" 

"  Silver-tips,  cinnamon,  black  ;  and  I  roped  a 
cub  onced." 

"  O-h  !     I  never  shot  a  bear." 

"  You'd  ought  to  try  it." 

"  I'm  a-going  to.  I'm  a-going  to  camp  out  in 
the  mountains.  I'd  like  to  see  you  when  you 
camp.  I'd  like  to  camp  with  you.  Mightn't  I 
some  time  ?"  Billy  had  drawn  nearer  to  Lin,  and 
was  looking  up  at  him  adoringly. 

"  You  bet !"  said  Lin  ;  and  though  he  did  not, 
perhaps,  entirely  mean  this,  it  was  with  a  curi- 
ously softened  face  that  he  began  to  look  at 
Billy.  As  with  dogs  and  his  horse,  so  always  he 
played  with  what  children  he  met — the  few  in  his 
sage-brush  world;  but  this  was  ceasing  to  be  quite 
play  for  him,  and  his  hand  went  to  the  boy's 
shoulder. 

"  Father  took  me  camping  with  him  once,  the 


A  JOURNEY    IN   SEARCH    OF   CHRISTMAS         133 

time  mother  was  off.  Father  gets  awful  drunk, 
too.  I've  quit  Laramie  for  good." 

Lin  sat  up,  and  his  hand  gripped  the  boy. 
"  Laramie  !"  said  he,  almost  shouting  it.  "  Yu' — 
yu'  —  is  your  name  Lusk?" 

But  the  boy  had  shrunk  from  him  instantly. 
"  You're  not  going  to  take  me  home  ?"  he  pite- 
ously  wailed. 

"  Heaven  and  heavens  !"  murmured  Lin  Mc- 
Lean. "  So  you're  her  kid  !" 

He  relaxed  again,  down  in  his  chair,  his  legs 
stretched  their  straight  length  below  the  chair  in 
front.  He  was  waked  from  his  bewilderment  by 
a  brushing  under  him,  and  there  was  young  Billy 
diving  for  escape  to  the  aisle,  like  the  cornered 
city  mouse  that  he  was.  Lin  nipped  that  poor 
little  attempt  and  had  the  limp  Billy  seated  inside 
again  before  the  two  in  discussion  beyond  had 
seen  anything.  He  had  said  not  a  word  to  the 
boy,  and  now  watched  his  unhappy  eyes  seizing 
upon  the  various  exits  and  dispositions  of  the 
theatre;  nor  could  he  imagine  anything  to  tell 
him  that  should  restore  the  perished  confidence. 
"Why  did  yu'  lead  him  off?"  he  asked  himself 
unexpectedly,  and  found  that  he  did  not  seem 
to  know ;  but  as  he  watched  the  restless  and  es- 
tranged runaway  he  grew  more  and  more  sor- 
rowful. "  I  just  hate  him  to  think  that  of  me," 
he  reflected.  The  curtain  rose,  and  he  saw  Billy 
make  up  his  mind  to  wait  until  they  should  all 
be  going  out  in  the  crowd.  While  the  children  of 
Captain  Grant  grew  hotter  and  hotter  upon  their 
father's  geographic  trail,  Lin  sat  saying  to  him- 
self a  number  of  contradictions.  "  He's  nothing 


134  LIN  MCLEAN 

to  me ;  what's  any  of  them  to  me  ?"  ,  Driven  to 
bay  by  his  bewilderment,  he  restated  the  facts  of 
the  past.  "Why,  she'd  deserted  him  and  Lusk 
before  she'd  ever  laid  eyes  on  me.  I  needn't  to 
bother  myself.  He  wasn't  never  even  my  step- 
kid."  The  past,  however,  brought  no  guidance. 
"  Lord,  what's  the  thing  to  do  about  this  ?  If  I  had 
any  home —  This  is  a  stinkin'  world  in  some  re- 
spects," said  Mr.  McLean,  aloud,  unknowingly. 
The  lady  in  the  chair  beneath  which  the  cow- 
puncher  had  his  legs  nudged  her  husband.  They 
took  it  for  emotion  over  the  sad  fortune  of  Cap- 
tain Grant,  and  their  backs  shook.  Presently 
each  turned,  and  saw  the  singular  man  with  un- 
tamed, wide-open  eyes  glowering  at  the  stage,  and 
both  backs  shook  again. 

Once  more  his  hand  was  laid  on  Billy.    "  Say  !" 

The  boy  glanced  at  him,  and  quickly  away. 

"  Look  at  me,  and  listen." 

Billy  swervingly  obeyed. 

"  I  ain't  after  yu',  and  never  was.  This  here's 
your  business,  not  mine.  Are  yu'  listenin'  good  ?" 

The  boy  made  a  nod,  and  Lin  proceeded,  whis- 
pering :  "  You've  got  no  call  to  believe  what  I 
say  to  yu' — yu've  been  lied  to,  I  guess,  pretty 
often.  So  I'll  not  stop  yu'  runnin'  and  hidin', 
and  I'll  never  give  it  away  I  saw  yu',  but  yu' 
keep  doin'  what  yu'  please.  I'll  just  go  now.  I've 
saw  all  I  want,  but  you  and  your  friends  stay 
with  it  till  it  quits.  If  yu'  happen  to  wish  to 
speak  to  me  about  that  pistol  or  bears,  yu'  come 
around  to  Smith's  Palace — that's  the  boss  hotel 
here,  ain't  it  ? — and  if  yu'  don't  come  too  late  I'll 
not  be  gone  to  bed.  But  this  time  of  night  I'm 


A  JOURNEY    IN    SEARCH    OF   CHRISTMAS         135 

liable  to  get  sleepy.  Tell  your  friends  good-bye 
for  me,  and  be  good  to  yourself.  I've  appreciated 
your  company." 

Mr.  McLean  entered  Smith's  Palace,  and,  engag- 
ing a  room  with  two  beds  in  it,  did  a  little  deli- 
cate lying  by  means  of  the  truth.  "  It's  a  lost  boy 
— a  runaway,"  he  told  the  clerk.  "  He'll  not  be 
extra  clean,  I  expect,  if  he  does  come.  Maybe 
he'll  give  me  the  slip,  and  I'll  have  a  job  cut  out 
to-morrow.  I'll  thank  yu'  to  put  my  money  in 
your  safe." 

The  clerk  placed  himself  at  the  disposal  of  the 
secret  service,  and  Lin  walked  up  and  down,  look- 
ing at  the  railroad  photographs  for  some  ten  min- 
utes, when  Master  Billy  peered  in  from  the  street. 

"  Hello !"  said  Mr.  McLean,  casually,  and  re- 
turned to  a  fine  picture  of  Pike's  Peak. 

Billy  observed  him  for  a  space,  and,  receiving 
no  further  attention,  came  stepping  along.  "  I'm 
not  a-going  back  to  Laramie,"  he  stated,  warn- 
ingly. 

"  I  wouldn't,"  said  Lin.  "  It  ain't  half  the  town 
Denver  is.  Well,  good-night.  Sorry  yu'  couldn't 
call  sooner — I'm  dead  sleepy." 

"O-h!"  Billy  stood  blank.  "I  wish  I'd  shook 
the  darned  old  show.  Say,  lemme  black  your 
boots  in  the  morning?" 

"  Not  sure  my  train  don't  go  too  early." 

"  I'm  up  !  I'm  up  !     I  get  around  to  all  of  'em." 

"  Where  do  yu'  sleep  ?" 

"  Sleeping  with  the  engine  -  man  now.  Why 
can't  you  put  that  on  me  to-night  ?" 

"  Goin'  up-stairs.  This  gentleman  wouldn't  let 
you  go  up-stairs." 


136  LIN  MCLEAN 

But  the  earnestly  petitioned  clerk  consented, 
and  Billy  was  the  first  to  hasten  into  the  room. 
He  stood  rapturous  while  Lin  buckled  the  belt 
round  his  scanty  stomach,  and  ingeniously  but- 
toned the  suspenders  outside  the  accoutrement 
to  retard  its  immediate  descent  to  earth. 

"  Did  it  ever  kill  a  man  ?"  asked  Billy,  touch- 
ing the  six-shooter. 

"  No.  It  'ain't  never  had  to  do  that,  but  I  ex- 
pect maybe  it's  stopped  some  killin'  me." 

"  Oh,  leave  me  wear  it  just  a  minute  !  Do 
you  collect  arrow-heads?  I  think  they're  bully. 
There's  the  finest  one  you  ever  seen."  He  brought 
out  the  relic,  tightly  wrapped  in  paper,  several 
pieces.  "  I  foun'  it  myself,  camping  with  father. 
It  was  sticking  in  a  crack  right  on  top  of  a  rock,but 
nobody'd  seen  it  till  I  came  along.  Ain't  it  fine  ?" 

Mr.  McLean  pronounced  it  a  gem. 

"Father  an'  me  found  a  lot,  an'  they  made 
mother  mad  laying  around,  an'  she  throwed  'em 
out.  She  takes  stuff  from  Kelley's." 

"  Who's  Kelley  ?" 

"  He  keeps  the  drug-store  at  Laramie.  Mother 
gets  awful  funny.  That's  how  she  was  when  I 
came  home.  For  I  told  Mr.  Perkins  he  lied,  an' 
I  ran  then.  An'  I  knowed  well  enough  she'd  lick 
me  when  she  got  through  her  spell — an'  father 
can't  stop  her,  an'  I — ah,  I  was  sick  of  it !  She's 
lamed  me  up  twice  beating  me — an'  Perkins  want- 
ing me  to  say  *  God  bless  my  mother !'  a-getting 
up  and  a-going  to  bed — he's  a  flubdub  !  An'  so  I 
cleared  out.  But  I'd  just  as  leaves  said  for  God 
to  bless  father — an'  you.  I'll  do  it  now  if  you  say 
it's  any  sense." 


A  JOURNEY   IN    SEARCH    OF   CHRISTMAS         137 

Mr.  McLean  sat  down  in  a  chair.  "  Don't  yu' 
do  it  now,"  said  he. 

"You  wouldn't  like  mother,"  Billy  continued. 
"  You  can  keep  that."  He  came  to  Lin  and  placed 
the  arrow-head  in  his  hands,  standing  beside  him. 
"  Do  you  like  birds'  eggs  ?  I  collect  them.  I  got 
twenty-five  kinds  —  sage -hen,  an'  blue  grouse, 
an'  willow-grouse,  an'  lots  more  kinds  harder — • 
but  I  couldn't  bring  all  them  from  Laramie.  I 
brought  the  magpie's,  though.  D'  you  care  to  see 
a  magpie  egg  ?  Well,  you  stay  to-morrow  an'  I'll 
show  you  that  an'  some  other  things  I  got  the 
engine-man  lets  me  keep  there,  for  there's  boys 
that  would  steal  an  egg.  An'  I  could  take  you 
where  we  could  fire  that  pistol.  Bet  you  don't 
know  what  that  is  I" 

He  brought  out  a  small  tin  box  shaped  like  a 
thimble,  in  which  were  things  that  rattled. 

Mr.  McLean  gave  it  up. 

"  That's  kinni-kinnic  seed.  You  can  have  that, 
for  I  got  some  more  with  the  engine-man." 

Lin  received  this  second  token  also,  and  thank- 
ed the  giver  for  it.  His  first  feeling  had  been  to 
prevent  the  boy's  parting  with  his  treasures,  but 
something  that  came  not  from  the  polish  of  man- 
ners and  experience  made  him  know  that  he 
should  take  them.  Billy  talked  away,  laying  bare 
his  little  soul ;  the  street  boy  that  was  not  quite 
come  made  place  for  the  child  that  was  not  quite 
gone,  and  unimportant  words  and  confidences 
dropped  from  him  disjointed  as  he  climbed  to  the 
knee  of  Mr.  McLean,  and  inadvertently  took  that 
cow-puncher  for  some  sort  of  parent  he  had  not 
hitherto  met.  It  lasted  but  a  short  while,  how- 


138  LIN  MCLEAN 

ever,  for  he  went  to  sleep  in  the  middle  of  a  sen- 
tence, with  his  head  upon  Lin's  breast.  The  man 
held  him  perfectly  still,  because  he  had  not  the 
faintest  notion  that  Billy  would  be  impossible  to 
disturb.  At  length  he  spoke  to  him,  suggesting 
that  bed  might  prove  more  comfortable  ;  and,  find- 
ing how  it  was,  rose  and  undressed  the  boy  and 
laid  him  between  the  sheets.  The  arms  and  legs 
seemed  aware  of  the  moves  required  of  them,  and 
stirred  conveniently  ;  and  directly  the  head  was 
upon  the  pillow  the  whole  small  frame  burrowed 
down,  without  the  opening  of  an  eye  or  a  change 
in  the  breathing.  Lin  stood  some  time  by  the 
bedside,  with  his  eyes  on  the  long,  curling  lashes 
and  the  curly  hair.  Then  he  glanced  craftily  at 
the  door  of  the  room,  and  at  himself  in  the  look- 
ing-glass. He  stooped  and  kissed  Billy  on  the 
forehead,  and,  rising  from  that,  gave  himself  a 
hangdog  stare  in  the  mirror,  and  soon  in  his  own 
bed  was  sleeping  the  sound  sleep  of  health. 

He  was  faintly  roused  by  the  church  bells,  and 
lay  still,  lingering  with  his  sleep,  his  eyes  closed, 
and  his  thoughts  unshaped.  As  he  became  slowly 
aware  of  the  morning,  the  ringing  and  the  light 
reached  him,  and  he  waked  wholly,  and,  still  lying 
quiet,  considered  the  strange  room  filled  with  the 
bells  and  the  sun  of  the  winter's  day.  "Where 
have  I  struck  now  ?"  he  inquired ;  and  as  last 
night  returned  abruptly  upon  his  mind,  he  raised 
himself  on  his  arm. 

There  sat  Responsibility  in  a  chair,  washed 
clean  and  dressed,  watching  him. 

"  You're  awful  late,"  said  Responsibility.  "  But 
I  weren't  a-going  without  telling  you"  good-bye." 


A  JOURNEY   IN   SEARCH    OF   CHRISTMAS         139 

"  Go  ?"  exclaimed  Lin.  "  Go  where  ?  Yu'  sure- 
ly ain't  leavin'  me  to  eat  breakfast  alone  ?"  The 
cow-puncher  made  his  voice  very  plaintive.  Set 
Responsibility  free  after  all  his  trouble  to  catch 
him  ?  This  was  more  than  he  could  do  ! 

"  I've  got  to  go.  If  I'd  thought  you'd  want  for 
me  to  stay — why,  you  said  you  was  a-going  by 
the  early  train  '" 

"  But  the  durned  thing's  got  away  on  me,"  said 
Lin,  smiling  sweetly  from  the  bed. 

"  If  I  hadn't  a-promised  them — " 

"  Who  ?" 

"  Sidney  Ellis  and  Pete  Goode.  Why,  you  know 
them  ;  you  grubbed  with  them." 

"  Shucks  !" 

"  We're  a-going  to  have  fun  to-day." 

"Oh!" 

"  For  it's  Christmas,  an*  we've  bought  some 
good  cigars,  an'  Pete  says  he'll  learn  me  sure.  O' 
course  I've  smoked  some,  you  know.  But  I'd 
just  as  leaves  stayed  with  you  if  I'd  only  knowed 
sooner.  I  wish  you  lived  here.  Did  you  smoke 
whole  big  cigars  when  you  was  beginning  ?" 

"Do  you  like  flapjacks  and  maple  syrup?"  in- 
quired the  artful  McLean.  "That's  what  I'm 
figuring  on  inside  twenty  minutes." 

"  Twenty  minutes  !     If  they'd  wait — " 

"  See  here,  Bill.  They've  quit  expecting  yu', 
don't  yu'  think  ?  I'd  ought  to  waked,  yu'  see,  but 
I  slep'  and  slep',  and  kep'  yu'  from  meetin'  your 
engagements,  yu'  see — for  you  couldn't  go,  of 
course.  A  man  couldn't  treat  a  man  that  way 
now,  could  he  ?" 

"  Course  he  couldn't,"  said  Billy,  brightening. 


140  LIN  MCLEAN 

"And  they  wouldn't  wait,  yu'  see.  They 
wouldn't  fool  away  Christmas,  that  only  comes 
onced  a  year,  kickin'  their  heels  and  sayin' 
'  Where's  Billy  ?'  They'd  say, '  Bill  has  sure  made 
other  arrangements,  which  he'll  explain  to  us  at 
his  leesyure.'  And  they'd  skip  with  the  cigars." 

The  advocate  paused,  effectively,  and  from  his 
bolster  regarded  Billy  with  a  convincing  eye. 

"That's  so,"  said  Billy. 

"  And  where  would  yu'  be  then,  Bill  ?  In  the 
street,  out  of  friends,  out  of  Christmas,  and  left 
both  ways,  no  tobaccer  and  no  flapjacks.  Now, 
Bill,  what  do  yu'  say  to  us  putting  up  a  Christmas 
deal  together  ?  Just  you  and  me  ?" 

"  I'd  like  that,"  said  Billy.     "  Is  it  all  day  ?" 

"  I  was  thinkin'  of  all  day,"  said  Lin.  "  I'll  not 
make  yu'  do  anything  yu'd  rather  not." 

"Ah,  they  can  smoke  without  me,"  said  Billy, 
with  sudden  acrimony.  "I'll  see  'em  to-morro'." 

"  That's  you  !"  cried  Mr.  McLean.  "  Now,  Bill, 
you  hustle  down  and  tell  them  to  keep  a  table 
for  us.  I'll  get  my  clothes  on  and  follow  yu'." 

The  boy  went,  and  Mr.  McLean  procured  hot 
water  and  dressed  himself,  tying  his  scarf  with 
great  care.  "  Wished  I'd  a  clean  shirt,"  said  he. 
"  But  I  don't  look  very  bad.  Shavin'  yesterday 
afternoon  was  a  good  move."  He  picked  up  the 
arrow-head  and  the  kinni-kinnic,  and  was  particu- 
lar to  store  them  in  his  safest  pocket.  "  I  ain't  sure 
whether  you're  crazy  or  not,"  said  he  to  the  man 
in  the  looking-glass.  "  I  'ain't  never  been  sure." 
And  he  slammed  the  door  and  went  down-stairs. 

He  found  young  Bill  on  guard  over  a  table  for 
four,  with  all  the  chairs  tilted  against  it  as  warn- 


A  JOURNEY   IN    SEARCH    OP    CHRISTMAS         141 

ing  to  strangers.  No  one  sat  at  any  other  table 
or  came  into  the  room,  for  it  was  late,  and  the 
place  quite  emptied  of  breakfasters,  and  the  sev- 
eral entertained  waiters  had  gathered  behind 
Billy's  important-looking  back.  Lin  provided  a 
thorough  meal,  and  Billy  pronounced  the  flannel 
cakes  superior  to  flapjacks,  which  were  not  upon 
the  bill  of  fare. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  you  often,"  said  he.  "  I'll  come 
and  see  you  if  you  don't  live  too  far." 

"That's  the  trouble,"  said  the  cow-puncher. 
"  I  do.  Awful  far."  He  stared  out  of  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Well,  I  might  come  some  time.  I  wish  you'd 
write  me  a  letter.  Can  you  write  ?" 

"  What's  that  ?    Can  I  write  ?    Oh  yes." 

"  I  can  write,  an'  I  can  read  too.  I've  been  to 
school  in  Sidney,  Nebraska,  an'  Magaw,  Kansas, 
an'  Salt  Lake — that's  the  finest  town  except  Den- 
ver." 

Billy  fell  into  that  cheerful  strain  of  comment 
which,  unreplied  to,  yet  goes  on  contented  and 
self-sustaining,  while  Mr.  McLean  gave  amiable 
signs  of  assent,  but  chiefly  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dow ;  and  when  the  now  interested  waiter  said 
respectfully  that  he  desired  to  close  the  room, 
they  went  out  to  the  office,  where  the  money  was 
got  out  of  the  safe  and  the  bill  paid. 

The  streets  were  full  of  the  bright  sun,  and 
seemingly  at  Denver's  gates  stood  the  mountains 
sparkling ;  an  air  crisp  and  pleasant  wafted  from 
their  peaks  ;  no  smoke  hung  among  the  roofs, 
and  the  sky  spread  wide  over  the  city  without  a 
stain  ;  it  was  holiday  up  among  the  chimneys 


142  LIN  MCLEAN 

and  tall  buildings,  and  down  among  the  quiet 
ground-stories  below  as  well;  and  presently  from 
their  scattered  pinnacles  through  the  town  the 
bells  broke  out  against  the  jocund  silence  of  the 
morning. 

"  Don't  you  like  music  ?"  inquired  Billy. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lin. 

Ladies  with  their  husbands  and  children  were 
passing  and  meeting,  orderly  yet  gayer  than  if  it 
were  only  Sunday,  and  the  salutations  of  Christ- 
mas came  now  and  again  to  the  cow-puncher's 
ears ;  but  to-day,  possessor  of  his  own  share  in 
this,  Lin  looked  at  every  one  with  a  sort  of 
friendly  challenge,  and  young  Billy  talked  along 
beside  him. 

"  Don't  you  think  we  could  go  in  here  ?"  Billy 
asked.  A  church  door  was  open,  and  the  rich 
organ  sounded  through  to  the  pavement. 
"  They've  good  music  here,  an'  they  keep  it  up 
without  much  talking  between.  I've  been  in 
lots  of  times." 

They  went  in  and  sat  to  hear  the  music.  Bet- 
ter than  the  organ,  it  seemed  to  them,  were  the 
harmonious  voices  raised  from  somewhere  out- 
side, like  unexpected  visitants ;  and  the  pair  sat 
in  their  back  seat,  too  deep  in  listening  to  the 
processional  hymn  to  think  of  rising  in  decent 
imitation  of  those  around  them.  The  crystal 
melody  of  the  refrain  especially  reached  their 
understandings,  and  when  for  the  fourth  time 
"  Shout  the  glad  tidings,  exultingly  sing,"  pealed 
forth  and  ceased,  both  the  delighted  faces  fell. 

"  Don't  you  wish  there  was  more  ?"  Billy  whis- 
pered. 


A  JOURNEY  IN   SEARCH    OP    CHRISTMAS         143 

"  Wish  there  was  a  hundred  verses,"  answered 
Lin. 

But  canticles  and  responses  followed,  with  so 
little  talking  between  them  they  were  held  spell- 
bound, seldom  thinking  to  rise  or  kneel.  Lin's 
eyes  roved  over  the  church,  dwelling  upon  the 
pillars  in  their  evergreen,  the  flowers  and  leafy 
wreaths,  the  texts  of  white  and  gold.  "  '  Peace, 
good -will  towards  men,'"  he  read.  "That's  so. 
Peace  and  good-will.  Yes,  that's  so.  I  expect 
they  got  that  somewheres  in  the  Bible.  It's  awful 
good,  and  you'd  never  think  of  it  yourself." 

There  was  a  touch  on  his  arm,  and  a  woman 
handed  a  book  to  him.  "  This  is  the  hymn  we 
have  now,"  she  whispered,  gently;  and  Lin,  blush- 
ing scarlet,  took  it  passively  without  a  word. 
He  and  Billy  stood  up  and  held  the  book  together, 
dutifully  reading  the  words  : 

"It  came  upon  the  midnight  clear, 

That  glorious  song  of  old, 
From  angels  bending  near  the  earth 

To  touch  their  harps  of  gold  j 
Peace  on  the  earth — " 

This  tune  was  more  beautiful  than  all,  and  Lin 
lost  himself  in  it,  until  he  found  Billy  recalling  him 
with  a  ringer  upon  the  words,  the  concluding  ones: 

"  And  the  whole  world  sent  back  the  song 
Which  now  the  angels  sing." 

The  music  rose  and  descended  to  its  lovely  and 
simple  end  ;  and,  for  a  second  time  in  Denver, 
Lin  brushed  a  hand  across  his  eyes.  He  turned 
his  face  from  his  neighbor,  frowning  crossly ; 


144  LIN  MCLEAN 

and  since  the  heart  has  reasons  which  Reason 
does  not  know,  he  seemed  to  himself  a  fool ;  but 
when  the  service  was  over  and  he  came  out,  he 
repeated  again,  "  '  Peace  and  good-will.'  When 
I  run  on  to  the  Bishop  of  Wyoming  I'll  tell  him 
if  he'll  preach  on  them  words  I'll  be  there." 

"Couldn't  we  shoot  your  pistol  now?"  asked 
Billy. 

"  Sure,  boy.     Ain't  yu'  hungry,  though  ?" 

"  No.  I  wish  we  were  away  off  up  there. 
Don't  you  ?" 

"  The  mountains  ?  They  look  pretty,  so  white! 
A  heap  better  'n  houses.  Why,  we'll  go  there  ! 
There's  trains  to  Golden.  We'll  shoot  around 
among  the  foothills." 

To  Golden  they  immediately  went,  and  after  a 
meal  there,  wandered  in  the  open  country  until 
the  cartridges  were  gone,  the  sun  was  low,  and 
Billy  was  walked  off  his  young  heels — a  truth  he 
learned  complete  in  one  horrid  moment,  and  bat- 
tled to  conceal. 

"Lame!"  he  echoed,  angrily.     "I  ain't." 

"  Shucks  !"  said  Lin,  after  the  next  ten  steps. 
"  You  are,  and  both  feet." 

"  Tell  you,  there's  stones  here,  an'  I'm  just  a- 
skipping  them." 

Lin,  briefly,  took  the  boy  in  his  arms  and  carried 
him  to  Golden.  "  I'm  played  out  myself,"  he  said, 
sitting  in  the  hotel  and  looking  lugubriously  at 
Billy  on  a  bed.  "  And  I  ain't  fit  to  have  charge 
of  a  hog."  He  came  and  put  his  hand  on  the 
boy's  head. 

"  I'm  not  sick,"  said  the  cripple.  "  I  tell  you 
I'm  bully.  You  wait  an'  see  me  eat  dinner." 


THE   MOUNTAINS  ?  .   .   .  WHY,   WE'LL   GO   THERE  !' 


A  JOURNEY   IN    SEARCH    OP  CHRISTMAS         145 

But  Lin  had  hot  water  and  cold  water  and  salt, 
and  was  an  hour  upon  his  knees  bathing  the  hot 
feet.  And  then  Billy  could  not  eat  dinner  ! 

There  was  a  doctor  in  Golden  ;  but  in  spite  of 
his  light  prescription  and  most  reasonable  obser- 
vations, Mr.  McLean  passed  a  foolish  night  of 
vigil,  while  Billy  slept,  quite  well  at  first,  and,  as 
the  hours  passed,  better  and  better.  In  the 
morning  he  was  entirely  brisk,  though  stiff. 

"  I  couldn't  work  quick  to-day,"  he  said.  "  But 
I  guess  one  day  won't  lose  me  my  trade." 

"  How  d'  yu'  mean  ?"  asked  Lin. 

"Why,  I've  got  regulars,  you  know.  Sidney 
Ellis  an'  Pete  Goode  has  theirs,  an'  we  don't  cut 
each  other.  I've  got  Mr.  Daniels  an'  Mr.  Fisher 
an'  lots,  an'  if  you  lived  in  Denver  I'd  shine  your 
boots  every  day  for  nothing.  I  wished  you  lived 
in  Denver." 

"  Shine  my  boots  ?  Yu'll  never  !  And  yu'  don't 
black  Daniels  or  Fisher,  or  any  of  the  outfit." 

"Why,  I'm  doing  first-rate,"  said  Billy,  sur- 
prised at  the  swearing  into  which  Mr.  McLean 
now  burst.  "An'  I  ain't  big  enough  to  get  to 
make  money  at  any  other  job." 

"I  want  to  see  that  engine-man,"  muttered 
Lin.  "  I  don't  like  your  smokin'  friend." 

"  Pete  Goode  ?  Why,  he's  awful  smart.  Don't 
you  think  he's  smart  ?" 

"  Smart's  nothin',"  observed  Mr.  McLean. 

"  Pete  has  learned  me  and  Sidney  a  lot,"  pur- 
sued Billy,  engagingly. 

"I'll  bet  he  has !"  growled  the  cow-puncher; 
and  again  Billy  was  taken  aback  at  his  language. 

It  was  not  so  simple,  this  case.     To  the  per- 


146  LIN  MCLEAN 

turbed  mind  of  Mr.  McLean  it  grew  less  simple 
during  that  day  at  Golden,  while  Billy  recovered, 
and  talked,  and  ate  his  innocent  meals.  The  cow- 
puncher  was  far  too  wise  to  think  for  a  single  mo- 
ment of  restoring  the  runaway  to  his  debauched 
and  shiftless  parents.  Possessed  of  some  im- 
agination, he  went  through  a  scene  in  which  he 
appeared  at  the  Lusk  threshold  with  Billy  and 
forgiveness,  and  intruded  upon  a  conjugal  assault 
and  battery.  "  Shucks  !"  said  he.  "  The  kid  would 
be  off  again  inside  a  week.  And  I  don't  want 
him  there,  anyway." 

Denver,  upon  the  following  day,  saw  the  little 
bootblack  again  at  his  corner,  with  his  trade  not 
lost ;  but  near  him  stood  a  tall,  singular  man,  with 
hazel  eyes  and  a  sulky  expression.  And  citizens 
during  that  week  noticed,  as  a  new  sight  in  the 
streets,  the  tall  man  and  the  little  boy  walking 
together.  Sometimes  they  would  be  in  shops. 
The  boy  seemed  as  happy  as  possible,  talking  con- 
stantly, while  the  man  seldom  said  a  word,  and 
his  face  was  serious. 

Upon  New-year's  Eve  Governor  Barker  was 
overtaken  by  Mr.  McLean  riding  a  horse  up  Hill 
Street,  Cheyenne. 

"  Hello !"  said  Barker,  staring  humorously 
through  his  glasses.  "  Have  a  good  drunk  ?" 

"Changed  my  mind,"  said  Lin,  grinning. 
"Proves  I've  got  one.  Struck  Christmas  all 
right,  though." 

"  Who's  you  friend  ?"  inquired  his  Excellency. 

"  This  is  Mister  Billy  Lusk.  Him  and  me  have 
agreed  that  towns  ain't  nice  to  live  in.  If  Judge 


A  JOURNEY  IN   SEARCH   OF   CHRISTMAS         147 

Henry's  foreman  and  his  wife  won't  board  him  at 
Sunk  Creek — why,  I'll  fix  it  somehow." 

The  cow-puncher  and  his  Responsibility  rode 
on  together  toward  the  open  plain. 

"  Suffering  Moses  !"  remarked  his  Excellency. 


SEPAR'S   VIGILANTE 

WE  had  fallen  half  asleep,  my  pony  and  I,  as 
we  went  jogging  and  jogging  through  the  long 
sunny  afternoon.  Our  hills  of  yesterday  were  a 
pale-blue  coast  sunk  almost  away  behind  us,  and 
ahead  our  goal  lay  shining,  a  little  island  of  houses 
in  this  quiet  mid-ocean  of  sage-brush.  For  two 
hours  it  had  looked  as  clear  and  near  as  now,  ris- 
ing into  sight  across  the  huge  dead  calm  and  sink- 
ing while  we  travelled  our  undulating,  impercep- 
tible miles.  The  train  had  come  and  gone  invisibly, 
except  for  its  slow  pillar  of  smoke  I  had  watched 
move  westward  against  Wyoming's  stainless  sky. 
Though  I  was  still  far  off,  the  water  -  tank  and 
other  buildings  stood  out  plain  and  complete  to 
my  eyes,  like  children's  blocks  arranged  and  for- 
gotten on  the  floor.  So  I  rode  along,  hypnotized 
by  the  sameness  of  the  lazy,  splendid  plain,  and 
almost  unaware  of  the  distant  rider,  till,  suddenly, 
he  was  close  and  hailing  me. 

"  They've  caved  !"  he  shouted. 

"  Who  ?"  I  cried,  thus  awakened. 

"Ah,  the  fool  company,"  said  he,  quieting  his 
voice  as  he  drew  near.  "They've  shed  their 
haughtiness,"  he  added,  confidingly,  as  if  I  must 
know  all  about  it. 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  149 

"Where  did  they  learn  that  wisdom?"  I  asked, 
not  knowing  in  the  least. 

"  Experience,"  he  called  over  his  shoulder  (for 
already  we  had  met  and  passed) ;  "  nothing  like 
experience  for  sweating  the  fat  off  the  brain." 

He  yelled  me  a  brotherly  good-bye,  and  I  am 
sorry  never  to  have  known  more  of  him,  for  I  in- 
cline to  value  any  stranger  so  joyous.  But  now 
I  waked  the  pony  and  trotted  briskly,  surmising 
as  to  the  company  and  its  haughtiness.  I  had 
been  viewing  my  destination  across  the  sage- 
brush for  so  spun-out  a  time  that  (as  constantly 
in  Wyoming  journeys)  the  emotion  of  arrival  had 
evaporated  long  before  the  event,  and  I  welcomed 
employment  for  my  otherwise  high-and-dry  mind. 
Probably  he  meant  the  railroad  company  ;  cer- 
tainly something  large  had  happened.  Even  as 
I  dismounted  at  the  platform  another  hilarious 
cow-puncher  came  out  of  the  station,  and,  at  once 
remarking,  "  They're  going  to  leave  us  alone," 
sprang  on  his  horse  and  galloped  to  the  corrals 
down  the  line,  where  some  cattle  were  being 
loaded  into  a  train.  I  went  inside  for  my  mail, 
and  here  were  four  more  cow-punchers  playing 
with  the  agent.  They  had  got  a  letter  away  from 
him,  and  he  wore  his  daily  look  of  anxiety  to 
appreciate  the  jests  of  these  rollicking  people. 
"  Read  it !"  they  said  to  me  ;  and  I  did  read  the 
private  document,  and  learned  that  the  railroad 
was  going  to  waive  its  right  to  enforce  law  and 
order  here,  and  would  trust  to  Separ's  good  feel- 
ing. "  Nothing  more,"  the  letter  ran,  "  will  be 
done  about  the  initial  outrage  or  the  subsequent 
vandalisms.  We  shall  pass  over  our  wasted  out- 


150  LIN   McLEAN 

lay  in  the  hope  that  a  policy  of  friendship  will 
prove  our  genuine  desire  to  benefit  that  section." 
'  *  Initial  outrage,' "  quoted  one  of  the  agent's 
large  playmates.     "  Ain't  they  furgivin'  ?" 

"Well,"  said  I,  "you  would  have  some  name 
for  it  yourself  if  you  sent  a  deputy  sheriff  to  look 
after  your  rights,  and  he  came  back  tied  to  the 
cow-catcher !" 

The  man  smiled  luxuriously  over  this  memory. 
"We  didn't  hurt  him  none.  Just  returned  him 
to  his  home.  Hear  about  the  label  Honey  Wiggin 
pinned  on  to  him  ?  '  Send  us  along  one  dozen  as 
per  sample.'  Honey's  quaint !  Yes,"  he  drawled, 
judicially,  "  I'd  be  mad  at  that.  But  if  you're 
making  peace  with  a  man  because  it's  convenient, 
why,  your  words  must  be  pleasanter  than  if  you 
really  felt  pleasant."  He  took  the  paper  from 
me,  and  read,  sardonically  :  " '  Subsequent  van- 
dalisms .  .  .  wasted  outlay.'  I  suppose  they  run 
this  station  from  charity  to  the  cattle.  Saves  the 
poor  things  walking  so  far  to  the  other  railroad. 
*  Policy  of  friendship  .  .  .  genuine  desire ' — oh, 
mouth  -  wash  !"  And,  shaking  his  bold,  clever 
head,  he  daintily  flattened  the  letter  upon  the 
head  of  the  agent.  "  Tubercle,"  said  he  (this  was 
their  name  for  the  agent,  who  had  told  all  of  us 
about  his  lungs),  "  it  ain't  your  fault  we  saw  their 
fine  letter.  They  just  intended  you  should  give 
it  out  how  they  wouldn't  bother  us  any  more,  and 
then  we'd  act  square.  The  boys  11  sit  up  late  over 
this  joke." 

Then  they  tramped  to  their  horses  and  rode 
away.  The  spokesman  had  hit  the  vital  point 
unerringly  ;  for  cow-punchers  are  shrewdly  alive 


SEPAR'S   VIGILANTE  151 

to  frankness,  and  it  often  draws  out  the  best  that 
is  in  them  ;  but  its  opposite  affects  them  unfavor- 
ably ;  and  I,  needing  sleep,  sighed  to  think  of 
their  late  sitting  up  over  that  joke.  I  walked 
to  the  board  box  painted  "  Hotel  Brunswick" — 
" hotel"  in  small  italics  and  "Brunswick"  in 
enormous  capitals,  the  N  and  the  S  wrong  side 
up. 

Here  sat  a  girl  outside  the  door,  alone.  Her 
face  was  broad,  wholesome,  and  strong,  and  her 
eyes  alert  and  sweet.  As  I  came  she  met  me  with 
a  challenging  glance  of  good-will.  Those  women 
who  journeyed  along  the  line  in  the  wake  of  pay- 
day to  traffic  with  the  men  employed  a  stare  well 
known  ;  but  this  straight  look  seemed  like  the 
greeting  of  some  pleasant  young  cowboy.  In  sur- 
prise I  forgot  to  be  civil,  and  stepped  foolishly 
by  her  to  see  about  supper  and  lodging. 

At  the  threshold  I  perceived  all  lodging  be- 
spoken. On  each  of  the  four  beds  lay  a  coat  or 
pistol  or  other  article  of  dress,  and  I  must  lodge 
myself.  There  were  my  saddle-blankets — rather 
wet ;  or  Lin  McLean  might  ride  in  to-night  on 
his  way  to  Riverside  ;  or  perhaps  down  at  the  cor- 
rals I  could  find  some  other  acquaintance  whose 
habit  of  washing  I  trusted  and  whose  bed  I  might 
share.  Failing  these  expedients,  several  empties 
stood  idle  upon  a  siding,  and  the  box-like  dark- 
ness of  these  freight -cars  was  timely.  Nights 
were  short  now.  Camping  out,  the  dawn  by  three 
o'clock  would  flow  like  silver  through  the  uni- 
verse, and,  sinking  through  my  blankets,  remorse- 
lessly pervade  my  buried  hair  and  brain.  But 
with  clean  straw  in  the  bottom  of  an  empty,  I 


152  LIN  MCLEAN 

could  sleep  my  fill  until  five  or  six.  I  decided  for 
the  empty,  and  opened  the  supper -room  door, 
where  the  table  was  set  for  more  than  enough 
to  include  me  ;  but  the  smell  of  the  butter  that 
awaited  us  drove  me  out  of  the  Hotel  Brunswick 
to  spend  the  remaining  minutes  in  the  air. 

"I  was  expecting  you,"  said  the  girl.  "Well, 
if  I  haven't  frightened  him  !"  She  laughed  so 
delightfully  that  I  recovered  and  laughed  too. 
"Why,"  she  explained,  "I  just  knew  you'd  not 
stay  in  there.  Which  side  are  you  going  to  but- 
ter your  bread  this  evening?" 

"  You  had  smelt  it  ?"  said  I,  still  cloudy  with 
surprise.  "  Yes.  Unquestionably.  Very  rancid." 
She  glanced  oddly  at  me,  and,  with  less  fellowship 
in  her  tone,  said,  "  I  was  going  to  warn  you — " 
when  suddenly,  down  at  the  corrals,  the  boys 
began  to  shoot  at  large.  "  Oh,  dear  !"  she  cried, 
starting  up.  "There's  trouble." 

"  Not  trouble,"  I  assured  her.  "  Too  many  are 
firing  at  once  to  be  in  earnest.  And  you  would 
be  safe  here." 

"  Me  ?  A  lady  without  escort  ?  Well,  I  should 
reckon  so  !  Leastways,  we  are  respected  where 
I  was  raised.  I  was  anxious  for  the  gentlemen 
ovah  yondah.  Shawhan,  K.  C.  branch  of  the 
Louavull  an'  Nashvull,  is  my  home."  The  words 
"  Louisville  and  Nashville "  spoke  creamily  of 
Blue-grass. 

"  Unescorted  all  that  way  !"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Isn't  it  awful  ?"  said  she,  tilting  her  head  with 
a  laugh,  and  showing  the  pistol  she  carried.  "  But 
we've  always  been  awful  in  Kentucky.  Now  I 
suppose  New  York  would  never  speak  to  poor  me 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  153 

as  it  passed  by?"  And  she  eyed  me  with  capa- 
ble, good-humored  satire. 

"Why  New  York?"  I  demanded.  "Guess 
again." 

"  Well,"  she  debated,  "  well,  cowboy  clothes  and 
city  language — he's  English  !"  she  burst  out ;  and 
then  she  turned  suddenly  red,  and  whispered  to 
herself,  reprovingly,  "If  I'm  not  acting  rude  !" 

"  Oh  !"  said  I,  rather  familiarly. 

"  It  was,  sir  ;  and  please  to  excuse  me.  If  you 
had  started  joking  so  free  with  me,  I'd  have  been 
insulted.  When  I  saw  you — the  hat  and  every- 
thing— I  took  you —  You  see  I've  always  been 
that  used  to  talking  to — to  folks  around  !"  Her 
bright  face  saddened,  memories  evidently  rose  be- 
fore her,  and  her  eyes  grew  distant. 

I  wished  to  say,  "  Treat  me  as  '  folks  around,' " 
but  this  tall  country  girl  had  put  us  on  other 
terms.  On  discovering  I  was  not  "  folks  around," 
she  had  taken  refuge  in  deriding  me,  but  swiftly 
feeling  no  solid  ground  there,  she  drew  a  firm, 
clear  woman's  line  between  us.  Plainly  she  was 
a  comrade  of  men,  in  her  buoyant  innocence  se- 
cure, yet  by  no  means  in  the  dark  as  to  them. 

"  Yes,  unescorted  two  thousand  miles,"  she  re- 
sumed, "  and  never  as  far  as  twenty  from  home 
till  last  Tuesday.  I  expect  you'll  have  to  be  scan- 
dalized, for  I'd  do  it  right  over  again  to-morrow." 

"  You've  got  me  all  wrong,"  said  I.  "  I'm  not 
English  ;  I'm  not  New  York.  I  am  good  Ameri- 
can, and  not  bounded  by  my  own  farm  either. 
No  sectional  line,  or  Mason  and  Dixon,  or  Missouri 
River  tattoos  me.  But  you,  when  you  say  United 
States,  you  mean  United  Kentucky  !" 


154  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Did  you  ever  !"  said  she,  staring  at  what  was 
Greek  to  her — as  it  is  to  most  Americans.  "  And 
so  if  you  had  a  sister  back  East,  and  she  and  you 
were  all  there  was  of  you  any  more,  and  she 
hadn't  seen  you  since — not  since  you  first  took  to 
staying  out  nights,  and  she  started  to  visit  you, 
you'd  not  tell  her  *  Fie  for  shame  '  ?" 

"  I'd  travel  my  money's  length  to  meet  her  !" 
said  I. 

A  wave  of  pain  crossed  her  face.  "  Nate  didn't 
know,"  she  said  then,  lightly.  "  You  see,  Nate's 
only  a  boy,  and  regular  thoughtless  about  writ- 
ing." 

Ah  !  So  this  Nate  never  wrote,  and  his  sister 
loved  and  championed  him  !  Many  such  stray 
Nates  and  Bobs  and  Bills  galloped  over  Wyoming, 
lost  and  forgiven. 

"  I'm  starting  for  him  in  the  Buffalo  stage," 
continued  the  girl. 

"Then  I'll  have  your  company  on  a  weary 
road,"  said  I ;  for  my  journey  was  now  to  that 
part  of  the  cattle  country. 

"  To  Buffalo  ?"  she  said,  quickly.  "  Then  may- 
be you — maybe —  My  brother  is  Nate  Buckner." 
She  paused.  "  Then  you're  not  acquainted  with 
him  ?" 

"  I  may  have  seen  him,"  I  answered,  slowly. 
"  But  faces  and  names  out  here  come  and  go." 

I  knew  him  well  enough.  He  was  in  jail,  con- 
victed of  forgery  last  week,  waiting  to  go  to  the 
penitentiary  for  five  years.  And  even  this  wild 
border  community  that  hated  law  courts  and  pun- 
ishments had  not  been  sorry  ;  for  he  had  cheated 
his  friends  too  often,  and  the  wide  charity  of  the 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  155 

sage-brush  does  not  cover  that  sin.  Beneath  his 
pretty  looks  and  daring  skill  with  horses  they  had 
found  vanity  and  a  cold,  false  heart ;  but  his  sister 
could  not.  Here  she  was,  come  to  find  him  after 
lonely  years,  and  to  this  one  soul  that  loved  him 
in  the  world  how  was  I  to  tell  the  desolation  and 
the  disgrace  ?  I  was  glad  to  hear  her  ask  me  if  the 
stage  went  soon  after  supper. 

"  Now  isn't  that  a  bother  ?"  said  she,  when  I 
answered  that  it  did  not  start  till  morning.  She 
glanced  with  rueful  gayety  at  the  hotel.  "  Never 
mind,"  she  continued,  briskly ;  "  I'm  used  to 
things.  I'll  just  sit  up  somewhere.  Maybe  the 
agent  will  let  me  stay  in  the  office.  You're  sure 
all  that  shooting's  only  jollification  ?" 

"  Certain,"  I  said.     "  But  I'll  go  and  see." 

"  They  always  will  have  their  fun,"  said  she. 
"  But  I  hate  to  have  a  poor  boy  get  hurt — even 
him  deserving  it !" 

"  They  use  pistols  instead  of  fire-crackers,"  said 
I.  "  But  you  must  never  sleep  in' that  office.  I'll 
see  what  we  can  do." 

"Why,  you're  real  kind  !"  she  exclaimed,  heart- 
ily. And  I  departed,  wondering  what  I  ought 
to  do. 

Perhaps  I  should  have  told  you  before  that 
Separ  was  a  place  once — a  sort  of  place  ;  but  you 
will  relish  now,  I  am  convinced,  the  pithy  fable 
of  its  name. 

Midway  between  two  sections  of  this  still  un- 
finished line  that,  rail  after  rail  and  mile  upon 
mile,  crawled  over  the  earth's  face  visibly  during 
the  constructing  hours  of  each  new  day,  lay  a 
camp.  To  this  point  these  unjoined  pieces  were 


156  LIN  MCLEAN 

heading,  and  here  at  length  they  met.  Camp 
Separation  it  had  been  fitly  called ;  but  how 
should  the  American  railway  man  afford  time  to 
say  that  ?  Separation  was  pretty  and  apt,  but 
needless  ;  and  with  the  sloughing  of  two  syllables 
came  the  brief,  businesslike  result — Separ.  Chi- 
cago, 1137^  miles.  It  was  labelled  on  a  board, 
large  almost  as  the  hut  station.  A  Y-switch,  two 
sidings,  the  fat  water-tank  and  steam-pump,  and 
a  section-house  with  three  trees  before  it  com- 
posed the  north  side.  South  of  the  track  were  no 
trees.  There  was  one  long  siding  by  the  corrals 
and  cattle-chute,  there  were  a  hovel  where  plug 
tobacco  and  canned  goods  were  for  sale,  a  shed 
where  you  might  get  your  horse  shod,  a  wire 
fence  that  at  shipping  times  enclosed  bales  of 
pressed  hay,  the  hotel,  the  stage  stable,  and  the 
little  station — some  seven  shanties  all  told.  Be- 
tween them  were  spaces  of  dust,  the  immediate 
plains  engulfed  them,  and  through  their  midst 
ran  the  far  -  vanishing  railroad,  to  which  they 
hung  like  beads  on  a  great  string  from  horizon  to 
horizon.  A  great  east-and-west  string,  one  end 
in  the  rosy  sun  at  morning,  and  one'in  the  crim- 
son sun  at  night.  Beyond  each  sky-line  lay  cities 
and  ports  where  the  world  went  on  out  of  sight 
and  hearing.  This  lone  steel  thread  had  been 
stretched  across  the  continent  because  it  was  the 
day  of  haste  and  hope,  when  dollars  seemed  many 
and  hard  times  were  few  ;  and  from  the  Yellow- 
stone to  the  Rio  Grande  similar  threads  were 
stretching,  and  little  Separs  by  dispersed  hun- 
dreds hung  on  them,  as  it  were  in  space  eternal. 
Can  you  wonder  that  vigorous  young  men  with 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  157 

pistols  should,  when  they  came  to  such  a  place, 
shoot  them  off  to  let  loose  their  unbounded  joy 
of  living? 

And  yet  it  was  not  this  merely  that  began  the 
custom,  but  an  error  of  the  agent's.  The  new 
station  was  scarce  created  when  one  morning 
Honey  Wiggin  with  the  Virginian  had  galloped 
innocently  in  from  the  round-up  to  telegraph  for 
some  additional  cars. 

"  I'm  dead  on  to  you  !"  squealed  the  official, 
dropping  flat  at  the  sight  of  them  ;  and  bang 
went  his  gun  at  them.  They,  most  naturally, 
thought  it  was  a  maniac,  and  ran  for  their  lives 
among  the  supports  of  the  water-tank,  while  he 
remained  anchored  with  his  weapon,  crouched  be- 
hind the  railing  that  fenced  him  and  his  appara- 
tus from  the  laity  ;  and  some  fifteen  strategic 
minutes  passed  before  all  parties  had  crawled 
forth  to  an  understanding,  and  the  message  was 
written  and  paid  for  and  comfortably  despatched. 
The  agent  was  an  honest  creature,  but  of  tame 
habits,  sent  for  the  sake  of  his  imperfect  lungs  to 
this  otherwise  inappropriate  air.  He  had  lived 
chiefly  in  mid- West  towns,  a  serious  reader  of  our 
comic  weeklies  ;  hence  the  apparition  of  Wiggin 
and  the  Virginian  had  reminded  him  sickeningly 
of  bandits.  He  had  express  money  in  the  safe, 
he  explained  to  them,  and  this  was  a  hard  old  coun- 
try, wasn't  it  ?  and  did  they  like  good  whiskey  ? 

They  drank  his  whiskey,  but  it  was  not  well  to 
have  mentioned  that  about  the  bandits.  Both 
were  aware  that  when  shaved  and  washed  of  their 
round-up  grime  they  could  look  very  engaging. 
The  two  cow-punchers  rode  out,  not  angry,  but 


158  LIN  MCLEAN 

grieved  that  a  man  come  here  to  dwell  among 
them  should  be  so  tactless. 

"  If  we  don't  get  him  used  to  us,"  observed  the 
Virginian,  "he  and  his  pop -gun  will  be  guttin' 
some  blameless  man." 

Forthwith  the  cattle  country  proceeded  to  get 
the  agent  used  to  it.  The  news  went  over  the 
sage-brush  from  Belle  Fourche  to  Sweetwater, 
and  playful,  howling  horsemen  made  it  their  cus- 
tom to  go  rioting  with  pistols  round  the  ticket- 
office,  educating  the  agent.  His  lungs  improved, 
and  he  came  dimly  to  smile  at  this  life  which  .  he 
did  not  understand.  But  the  company  discerned 
no  humor  whatever  in  having  its  water-tank  per- 
forated, which  happened  twice ;  and  sheriffs  and 
deputies  and  other  symptoms  of  authority  be- 
gan to  invest  Separ.  Now  what  should  author- 
ity do  upon  these  free  plains,  this  wilderness 
of  do-as-you-please,  where  mere  breathing  the 
air  was  like  inebriation  ?  The  large,  headlong 
children  who  swept  in  from  the  sage-brush  and 
out  again  meant  nothing  that  they  called  harm 
until  they  found  themselves  resisted.  Then  pres- 
ently happened  that  affair  of  the  cow-catcher  ; 
and  later  a  too -zealous  marshal,  come  about  a 
mail-car  they  had  side-tracked  and  held  with  fid- 
dles, drink,  and  petticoats,  met  his  death  acci- 
dentally, at  which  they  were  sincerely  sorry  for 
about  five  minutes.  They  valued  their  own  lives 
as  little,  and  that  lifts  them  forever  from  base- 
ness at  least.  So  the  company,  concluding  such 
things  must  be  endured  for  a  while  yet,  wrote 
their  letter,  and  you  have  seen  how  wrong  the 
letter  went.  All  it  would  do  would  be  from  now 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  159 

on  to  fasten  upon  Separ  its  code  of  recklessness  ; 
to  make  shooting  the  water-tank  (for  example) 
part  of  a  gentleman's  deportment  when  he  showed 
himself  in  town. 

It  was  not  now  the  season  of  heavy  shipping ; 
to-night  their  work  would  be  early  finished,  and 
then  they  were  likely  to  play  after  their  manner. 
To  arrive  in  such  a  place  on  her  way  to  her 
brother,  the  felon  in  jail,  made  the  girl's  journey 
seem  doubly  forlorn  to  me  as  I  wandered  down 
to  the  corrals. 

A  small,  bold  voice  hailed  me.  "  Hello,  you  !" 
it  said ;  and  here  was  Billy  Lusk,  aged  nine,  in 
boots  and  overalls,  importantly  useless  with  a 
stick,  helping  the  men  prod  the  steers  at  the 
chute. 

"  Thought  you  were  at  school,"  said  I. 

"  Ah,  school's  quit,"  returned  Billy,  and  changed 
the  subject.  "  Say,  Lin's  hunting  you.  He's  a- 
going  to  eat  at  the  hotel.  I'm  grubbing  with  the 
outfit."  And  Billy  resumed  his  specious  ac- 
tivity. 

Mr.  McLean  was  in  the  ticket-office,  where  the 
newspaper  had  transiently  reminded  him  of  poli- 
tics. "Wall  Street,"  he  was  explaining  to  the 
agent,  "  has  been  lunched  on  by  them  Ross-childs, 
and  they're  moving  on.  Feeding  along  to  Chi- 
cago. We  want — "  Here  he  noticed  me  and, 
dragging  his  gauntlet  off,  shook  my  hand  with  his 
lusty  grasp. 

"Your  eldest  son  just  said  you  were  in  haste 
to  find  me,"  I  remarked. 

"  Lose  you,  he  meant.  The  kid  gets  his  words 
twisted." 


160  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Didn't  know  you  were  a  father,  Mr.  McLean," 
simpered  the  agent. 

Lin  fixed  his  eye  on  the  man.  "And  you  don't 
know  it  now,"  said  he.  Then  he  removed  his  eye. 
"  Let's  grub,"  he  added  to  me.  My  friend  did  not 
walk  to  the  hotel,  but  slowly  round  and  about, 
with  a  face  overcast.  "  Billy  is  a  good  kid,"  he 
said  at  length,  and,  stopping,  began  to  kick  small 
mounds  in  the  dust.  Politics  floated  lightly  over 
him,  but  here  was  a  matter  dwelling  with  him, 
heavy  and  real.  "  He's  dead  stuck  on  being  a 
cow-puncher,"  he  presently  said. 

"  Some  day — "  I  began. 

"  He  don't  want  to  wait  that  long,"  Lin  said, 
and  smiled  affectionately.  "  And,  anyhow,  what 
is  '  some  day '?  Some  day  we  punchers  will  not 
be  here.  The  living  will  be  scattered,  and  the 
dead — well,  they'll  be  all  right.  Have  yu'  studied 
the  wire  fence  ?  It's  spreading  to  catch  us  like 
nets  do  the  salmon  in  the  Columbia  River.  No 
more  salmon,  no  more  cow-punchers,"  stated  Mr. 
McLean,  sententiously  ;  and  his  words  made  me 
sad,  though  I  know  that  progress  cannot  spare 
land  and  water  for  such  things.  "  But  Billy,"  Lin 
resumed,  "  has  agreed  to  school  again  when  it 
starts  up  in  the  fall.  He  takes  his  medicine  be- 
cause I  want  him  to."  Affection  crept  anew  over 
the  cow  -  puncher's  face.  "  He  can  learn  books 
with  the  quickest  when  he  wants,  that  Bear 
Creek  school-marm  says.  But  he'd  ought  to 
have  a  regular  mother  till — till  I  can  do  for  him, 
yu'  know.  It's  onwholesome  him  seeing  and 
hearing  the  boys — and  me,  and  me  when  I  for- 
get! —  but  shucks!  how  can  I  fix  it?  Billy  was 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  161 

sure  enough  dropped  and  deserted.  But  when  I 
found  him  the  little  calf  could  run  and  notice 
like  everything !" 

"  I  should  hate  your  contract,  Lin,"  said  I. 
"Adopting's  a  touch-and-go  business  even  when 
a  man  has  a  home." 

"  I'll  fill  the  contract,  you  bet !  I  wish  the  lit- 
tle son-of-a-gun  was  mine.  I'm  a  heap  more  nat- 
ural to  him  than  that  pair  of  drunkards  that  got 
him.  He  likes  me  :  I  think  he  does.  I've  had  to 
lick  him  now  and  then,  but  Lord  !  his  badness  is 
all  right — not  sneaky.  I'll  take  him  hunting  next 
month,  and  then  the  foreman's  wife  at  Sunk  Creek 
boards  him  till  school.  Only  when  they  move, 
Judge  Henry  '11  make  his  Virginia  man  foreman — 
and  he's  got  no  woman  to  look  after  Billy,  yu' 
see." 

"  He's  asking  one  hard  enough,"  said  I,  digres- 
sing. 

"  Oh  yes  ;  asking  !  Talk  of  adopting — "  said 
Mr.  McLean,  and  his  wide-open,  hazel  eyes  look- 
ed away  as  he  coughed  uneasily.  Then  abruptly 
looking  at  me  again,  he  said :  "  Don't  you  get 
off  any  more  truck  about  eldest  son  and  that,  will 
yu',  friend?  The  boys  are  joshing  me  now — not 
that  I  care  for  what  might  easy  enough  be  so, 
but  there's  Billy.  Maybe  he'd  not  mind,  but 
maybe  he  would  after  a  while ;  and  I  am  kind  o' 
set  on — well — he  didn't  have  a  good  time  till  he 
shook  that  home  of  his,  and  I'm  going  to  make 
this  old  bitch  of  a  world  pay  him  what  she  owes 
him,  if  I  can.  Now  you'll  drop  joshing,  won't 
yu'  ?"  His  forehead  was  moist  over  getting  the 
thing  said  and  laying  bare  so  much  of  his  soul, 
n 


162  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  And  so  the  world  owes  us  a  good  time,  Lin  ?" 
said  I. 

He  laughed  shortly.  "  She  must  have  been 
dead  broke,  then,  quite  a  while,  you  bet !  Oh  no. 
Maybe  I  used  to  travel  on  that  basis.  But  see 
here  "  (Lin  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder),  "  if  you 
can't  expect  a  good  time  for  yourself  in  reason, 
you  can  sure  make  the  kids  happy  out  o'  reason, 
can't  yu'  ?" 

I  fairly  opened  my  mouth  at  him. 

"  Oh  yes,"  he  said,  laughing  in  that  short  way 
again  (and  he  took  his  hand  off  my  shoulder) ; 
"  I've  been  thinking  a  wonderful  lot  since  we  met 
last.  I  guess  I  know  some  things  yu'  haven't  got 
to  yet  yourself —  Why,  there's  a  girl !" 

"That  there  is !"  said  I.  "And  certainly  the 
world  owes  her  a  better — " 

"  She's  a  fine-looker,"  interrupted  Mr.  McLean, 
paying  me  no  further  attention.  Here  the  de- 
crepit, straw -hatted  proprietor  of  the  Hotel 
Brunswick  stuck  his  beard  out  of  the  door  and 
uttered  "  Supper !"  with  a  shrill  croak,  at  which 
the  girl  rose. 

"  Come  !"  said  Lin,  "  let's  hurry  !" 

But  I  hooked  my  fingers  in  his  belt,  and  in 
spite  of  his  plaintive  oaths  at  my  losing  him  the 
best  seat  at  the  table,  told  him  in  three  words  the 
sister's  devoted  journey. 

"  Nate  Buckner  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Him  with  a 
decent  sister  !" 

"  It's  the  other  way  round,"  said  I.  "  Her  with 
him  for  a  brother  !" 

"  He  goes  to  the  penitentiary  this  week,"  said 
Lin.  "  He  had  no  more  cash  to  stake  his  lawyer 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  163 

with,  and  the  lawyer  lost  interest  in  him.  So  his 
sister  could  have  waited  for  her  convict  away 
back  at  Joliet,  and  saved  time  and  money.  How 
did  she  act  when  yu'  told  her  ?" 

"I've  not  told  her." 

"  Not  ?  Too  kind  o'  not  your  business  ?  Well, 
well !  You'd  ought  to  know  better  'n  me.  Only 
it  don't  seem  right  to  let  her  —  no,  sir;  it's  not 
right,  either.  Put  it  her  brother  was  dead  (and 
Mrs.  Fligg's  husband  would  like  dearly  to  make 
him  dead),  you'd  not  let  her  come  slap  up  against 
the  news  unwarned.  You  would  tell  her  he  was 
sick,  and  start  her  gently." 

"  Death's  different,"  said  I. 

"  Shucks  !  And  she's  to  find  him  caged,  and 
waiting  for  stripes  and  a  shaved  head  ?  How  d' 
yu'  know  she  mightn't  hate  that  worse  'n  if  he'd 
been  just  shot  like  a  man  in  a  husband  scrape, 
instead  of  jailed  like  a  skunk  for  thieving?  No, 
sir,  she  mustn't.  Think  of  how  it  '11  be.  Quick 
as  the  stage  pulls  up  front  o'  the  Buffalo  post- 
office,  plump  she'll  be  down  ahead  of  the  mail- 
sacks,  inquiring  after  her  brother,  and  all  that 
crowd  around  staring.  Why,  we  can't  let  her  do 
that ;  she  can't  do  that.  If  you  don't  feel  so  in- 
terfering, I'm  good  for  this  job  myself."  And 
Mr.  McLean  took  the  lead  and  marched  jingling 
in  to  supper. 

The  seat  he  had  coveted  was  vacant.  On  either 
side  the  girl  were  empty  chairs,  two  or  three ;  for 
with  that  clean,  shy  respect  of  the  frontier  that 
divines  and  evades  a  good  woman,  the  dusty 
company  had  sat  itself  at  a  distance,  and  Mr. 
McLean's  best  seat  was  open  to  him.  Yet  he  had 


164  LIN  MCLEAN 

veered  away  to  the  other  side  of  the  table,  and 
his  usually  roving  eye  attempted  no  gallantry. 
He  ate  sedately,  and  it  was  not  until  after  long 
weeks  and  many  happenings  that  Miss  Buckner 
told  Lin  she  had  known  he  was  looking  at  her 
through  the  whole  of  this  meal.  The  straw- 
hatted  proprietor  came  and  went,  bearing  beef- 
steak hammered  flat  to  make  it  tender.  The  girl 
seemed  the  one  happy  person  among  us  ;  for  sup- 
per was  going  forward  with  the  invariable  alkali 
etiquette,  all  faces  brooding  and  feeding  amid  a 
disheartening  silence  as  of  guilt  or  bereavement 
that  springs  from  I  have  never  been  quite  sure 
what  —  perhaps  reversion  to  the  native  animal 
absprbed  in  his  meat,  perhaps  a  little  from  every 
guest's  uneasiness  lest  he  drink  his  coffee  wrong 
or  stumble  in  the  accepted  uses  of  the  fork.  In- 
deed, a  diffident,  uncleansed  youth  nearest  Miss 
Buckner  presently  wiped  his  mouth  upon  the 
cloth ;  and  Mr.  McLean,  knowing  better  than 
that,  eyed  him  for  this  conduct  in  the  presence  of 
a  lady.  The  lively  strength  of  the  butter  must,  I 
think,  have  reached  all  in  the  room  ;  at  any  rate, 
the  table-cloth  lad,  troubled  by  Mr.  McLean's 
eye,  now  relieved  the  general  silence  by  observ- 
ing, chattily  : 

"  Say,  friends,  that  butter  ain't  in  no  trance." 
"  If  it's  too  rich  for  you,"  croaked  the  enraged 
proprietor,  "  use  axle-dope." 

The  company  continued  gravely  feeding,  while 
I  struggled  to  preserve  the  decorum  of  sadness, 
and  Miss  Buckner's  face  was  also  unsteady.  But 
sternness  mantled  in  the  countenance  of  Mr.  Mc- 
Lean, until  the  harmless  boy,  embarrassed  to 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  165 

pieces,  offered  the  untasted  smelling-dish  to  Lin, 
to  me,  helped  himself,  and  finally  thrust  the  plate 
at  the  girl,  saying,  in  his  Texas  idiom, 

"  Have  butter." 

He  spoke  in  the  shell  voice  of  adolescence,  and 
on  "  butter  "  cracked  an  octave  up  into  the  treble. 
Miss  Buckner  was  speechless,  and  could  only 
shake  her  head  at  the  plate. 

Mr.  McLean,  however,  thought  she  was  offend- 
ed. "  She  wouldn't  choose  for  none/'  he  said  to 
the  youth,  with  appalling  calm.  "Thank  yu' 
most  to  death." 

"  I  guess,"  fluted  poor  Texas,  in  a  dove  falsetto, 
"it  would  go  slicker  rubbed  outside  than  swal- 
lered." 

At  this  Miss  Buckner  broke  from  the  table  and 
fled  out  of  the  house. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  know  anything,"  observed 
Mr.  McLean.  "What  toy -shop  did  you  escape 
from  ?" 

"  Wind  him  up  !  Wind  him  up  !"  said  the  pro- 
prietor, sticking  his  head  in  from  the  kitchen. 

"Ah,  what's  the  matter  with  this  outfit ?", 
screamed  the  boy,  furiously.  "  Can't  yu'  leave  a 
man  eat?  Can't  yu'  leave  him  be?  You  make 
me  sick  !"  And  he  flounced  out  with  his  young 
boots. 

All  the  while  the  company  fed  on  unmoved. 
Presently  one  remarked, 

"  Who's  hiring  him  ?" 

"  The  C.  Y.  outfit,"  said  another. 

"  Half-circle  L.,"  a  third  corrected. 

"  I  seen  one  like  him  onced,"  said  the  first, 
taking  his  hat  from  beneath  his  chair.  "Up  in 


1 66  LIN  MCLEAN 

the  Black  Hills  he  was.  Eighteen  seventy-nine. 
Gosh  !"  And  he  wandered  out  upon  his  business. 
One  by  one  the  others  also  silently  dispersed. 

Upon  going  out,  Lin  and  I  found  the  boy  pac- 
ing up  and  down,  eagerly  in  talk  with  Miss  Buck- 
ner.  She  had  made  friends  with  him,  and  he 
was  now  smoothed  down  and  deeply  absorbed,  be- 
ing led  by  her  to  tell  her  about  himself.  But  on 
Lin's  approach  his  face  clouded,  and  he  made  off 
for  the  corrals,  displaying  a  sullen  back,  while  I 
was  presenting  Mr.  McLean  to  the  lady. 

Overtaken  by  his  cow-puncher  shyness,  Lin 
was  greeting  her  with  ungainly  ceremony,  when 
she  began  at  once,  "  You'll  excuse  me,  but  I  just 
had  to  have  my  laugh." 

44  That's  all  right,  m'm,"  said  he ;  "  don't  men- 
tion it." 

"  For  that  boy,  you  know — " 

"  I'll  fix  him,  m'm.  He'll  not  insult  yu'  no 
more.  I'll  speak  to  him." 

"Now,  please  don't!  Why  —  why  —  you  were 
every  bit  as  bad !"  Miss  Buckner  pealed  out,  joy- 
ously. "  It  was  the  two  of  you.  Oh  dear  !" 

Mr.  McLean  looked  crestfallen.  "  I  had  no — I 
didn't  go  to — " 

"  Why,  there  was  no  harm  !  To  see  him  mean 
so  well  and  you  mean  so  well,  and  —  I  know  I 
ought  to  behave  better  !" 

"  No,  yu'  oughtn't !"  said  Lin,  with  sudden 
ardor ;  and  then,  in  a  voice  of  deprecation, 
"  You'll  think  us  plumb  ignorant." 

"  You  know  enough  to  be  kind  to  folks,"  said 
she. 

"  We'd  like  to." 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  167 

"It's  the  only  thing  makes  the  world  go 
round  !"  she  declared,  with  an  emotion  that  I 
had  heard  in  her  tone  once  or  twice  already. 
But  she  caught  herself  up,  and  said  gayly  to  me, 
"  And  where's  that  house  you  were  going  to  build 
for  a  lone  girl  to  sleep  in  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid  the  foundations  aren't  laid  yet," 
said  I. 

"  Now  you  gentlemen  needn't  bother  about 
me." 

"  We'll  have  to,  m'm.   You  ain't  used  to  Separ." 

"Oh,  I  am  no  —  tenderfoot,  don't  you  call 
them  ?"  She  whipped  out  her  pistol,  and  held 
it  at  the  cow-puncher,  laughing. 

This  would  have  given  no  pleasure  to  me  ;  but 
over  Lin's  features  went  a  glow  of  delight,  and 
he  stood  gazing  at  the  pointed  weapon  and  the 
girl  behind  it.  "  My  !"  he  said,  at  length,  almost 
in  a  whisper,  "  she's  got  the  drop  on  me  !" 

"I  reckon  I'd  be  afraid  to  shoot  that  one  of 
yours,"  said  Miss  Buckner.  "  But  this  hits  a  tar- 
get real  good  and  straight  at  fifteen  yards."  And 
she  handed  it  to  him  for  inspection. 

He  received  it,  hugely  grinning,  and  turned 
it  over  and  over.  "  My  !"  he  murmured  again. 
"  Why,  shucks  !"  He  looked  at  Miss  Buckner 
with  stark  rapture,  caressing  the  polished  re- 
volver at  the  same  time  with  a  fond,  unconscious 
thumb.  "  You  hold  it  just  as  steady  as  I  could," 
he  said  with  pride,  and  added,  insinuatingly,  "  I 
could  learn  yu'  the  professional  drop  in  a  morn- 
ing. This  here  is  a  little  dandy  gun." 

"You'd  not  trade,  though,"  said  she,  "for  all 
your  flattery." 


1 68  LIN   McLEAN 

"  Will  yu'  trade  ?"  pounced  Lin.     "  Won't  yu'  ?" 

"  Now,  Mr.  McLean,  I  am  afraid  you're  thought- 
less. How  could  a  girl  like  me  ever  hold  that 
awful  .45  Colt  steady  ?" 

"  She  knows  the  brands,  too  !"  cried  Lin,  in  ec- 
stasy. "  See  here,"  he  remarked  to  me  with  a 
manner  that  smacked  of  command,  "  we're  losing 
time  right  now.  You  go  and  tell  the  agent  to 
hustle  and  fix  his  room  up  for  a  lady,  and  I'll 
bring  her  along." 

I  found  the  agent  willing,  of  course,  to  sleep 
on  the  floor  of  the  office.  The  toy  station  was 
also  his  home.  The  front  compartment  held  the 
ticket  and  telegraph  and  mail  and  express  chat- 
tels, and  the  railing,  and  room  for  the  public  to 
stand  ;  through  a  door  you  then  passed  to  the 
sitting,  dining,  and  sleeping  box  ;  and  through 
another  to  a  cooking  -  stove  in  a  pigeon  -  hole. 
Here  flourished  the  agent  and  his  lungs,  and 
here  the  company's  strict  orders  bade  him  sleep 
in  charge  ;  so  I  helped  him  put  his  room  to  rights. 
But  we  need  not  have  hurried  ourselves.  Mr. 
McLean  was  so  long  in  bringing  the  lady  that  I 
went  out  and  found  him  walking  and  talking 
with  her,  while  fifty  yards  away  skulked  poor 
Texas,  alone.  This  boy's  name  was,  like  himself, 
of  the  somewhat  unexpected  order,  being  Manas- 
sas  Donohoe. 

As  I  came  towards  the  new  friends  they  did 
not  appear  to  be  joking,  and  on  seeing  me  Miss 
Buckner  said  to  Lin,  "  Did  he  know  ?" 

Lin  hesitated. 

"  You  did  know  !"  she  exclaimed,  but  lost  her 
resentment  at  once,  and  continued,  very  quietly 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  169 

and  with  a  friendly  tone,  "I  reckon  you  don't 
like  to  have  to  tell  folks  bad  news." 

It  was  I  that  now  hesitated. 

"  Not  to  a  strange  girl,  anyway  !"  said  she. 
"  Well,  now  I  have  good  news  to  tell  you.  You 
would  not  have  given  me  any  shock  if  you  had 
said  you  knew  about  poor  Nate,  for  that's  the 
reason —  Of  course  those  things  can't  be  se- 
crets !  Why,  he's  only  twenty,  sir  !  How  should 
he  know  about  this  world?  He  hadn't  learned 
the  first  little  thing  when  he  left  home  five  years 
ago.  And  I  am  twenty-three — old  enough  to  be 
Nate's  grandmother,  he's  that  young  and  thought- 
less. He  couldn't  ever  realize  bad  companions 
when  they  came  around.  See  that !"  She  showed 
me  a  paper,  taking  it  out  like  a  precious  thing, 
as  indeed  it  was  ;  for  it  was  a  pardon  signed  by 
Governor  Barker.  "  And  the  Governor  has  let  me 
carry  it  to  Nate  myself.  He  won't  know  a  thing 
about  it  till  I  tell  him.  The  Governor  was  real 
kind,  and  we  will  never  forget  him.  I  reckon  Nate 
must  have  a  mustache  by  now?"  said  she  to  Lin. 

"Yes,"  Lin  answered,  gruffly,  looking  away 
from  her,  "he  has  got  a  mustache  all  right." 

"  He'll  be  glad  to  see  you,"  said  I,  for  some- 
thing to  say. 

"  Of  course  he  will !  How  many  hours  did  you 
say  we  will  be  ?"  she  asked  Lin,  turning  from  me 
again  ;  for  Mr.  McLean  had  not  been  losing  time. 
It  was  plain  that  between  these  two  had  arisen  a 
freemasonry  from  which  I  was  already  shut  out. 
Her  woman's  heart  had  answered  his  right  im- 
pulse to  tell  her  about  her  brother,  and  I  had 
been  found  wanting ! 


170  LIN  MCLEAN 

,  So  now  she  listened  over  again  to  the  hours  of 
stage  jolting  that  "we"  had  before  us,  and  that 
lay  between  her  and  Nate.  "  We  "  would  be  four 
— herself,  Lin,  myself,  and  the  boy  Billy.  Was 
Billy  the  one  at  supper  ?  Oh  no ;  just  Billy 
Lusk,  of  Laramie.  "  He's  a  kid  I'm  taking  up 
the  country,"  Lin  explained.  "Ain't  you  most 
tuckered  out?" 

"  Oh,  me !"  she  confessed,  with  a  laugh  and  a 
sigh. 

There  again  !  She  had  put  aside  my  solicitude 
lightly,  but  was  willing  Lin  should  know  her  fa- 
tigue. Yet,  fatigue  and  all,  she  would  not  sleep 
in  the  agent's  room.  At  sight  of  it  and  the  close 
quarters  she  drew  back  into  the  outer  office,  so 
prompted  by  that  inner,  unsuspected  strictness 
she  had  shown  me  before. 

"  Come  out !"  she  cried,  laughing.  "  Indeed,  I 
thank  you.  But  I  can't  have  you  sleep  on  this 
hard  floor  out  here.  No  politeness,  now  !  Thank 
you  ever  so  much.  I'm  used  to  roughing  it  pret- 
ty near  as  well  as  if  I  was — a  cowboy  !"  And  she 
glanced  at  Lin.  "They're  calling  forty-seven," 
she  added  to  the  agent. 

"  That's  me,"  he  said,  coming  out  to  the  tele- 
graph instrument.  "  So  you're  one  of  us  ?" 

"  I  didn't  know  forty-seven  meant  Separ,"  said  I. 
"  How  in  the  world  do  you  know  that  ?" 

"  I  didn't.  I  heard  forty  -  seven,  forty  -  seven, 
forty-seven,  start  and  go  right  along,  so  I  guessed 
they  wanted  him,  and  he  couldn't  hear  them  from 
his  room." 

"  Can  yu'  do  astronomy  and  Spanish  too  ?"  in- 
quired the  proud  and  smiling  McLean. 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  171 

"  Why,  it's  nothing  !  I've  been  day  operator 
back  home.  Why  is  a  deputy  coming  through  on 
a  special  engine  ?" 

"  Please  don't  say  it  out  loud  !"  quavered  the 
agent,  as  the  machine  clicked  its  news. 

"Yu'  needn't  be  scared  of  a  girl,"  said  Lin. 
"  Another  sheriff  !  So  they're  not  quit  bother- 
ing us  yet." 

However,  this  meddling  was  not  the  com- 
pany's, but  the  county's  ;  a  sheriff  sent  to  arrest, 
on  a  charge  of  murder,  a  man  named  Trampas, 
said  to  be  at  the  Sand  Hill  Ranch.  That  was 
near  Rawhide,  two  stations  beyond,  and  the  en- 
gine might  not  stop  at  Separ,  even  to  water.  So 
here  was  no  molesting  of  Separ's  liberties. 

"All  the  same,"  Lin  said,  for  pistols  now  and 
then  still  sounded  at  the  corrals,  "  the  boys  '11  not 
understand  that  till  it's  explained,  and  they  may 
act  wayward  first.  I'd  feel  easier  if  you  slept 
here,"  he  urged  to  the  girl.  But  she  would  not. 
"  Well,  then,  we  must  rustle  some  other  private 
place  for  you.  How's  the  section-house  ?" 

"  Rank,"  said  the  agent,  "  since  those  Italians 
used  it.  The  pump  engineer  has  been  scouring, 
but  he's  scared  to  bunk  there  yet  himself." 

"Too  bad  you  couldn't  try  my  plan  of  a 
freight-car  !"  said  I. 

"  An  empty  ?"  she  cried.  "  Is  there  a  clean 
one  ?" 

"  You've  sure  never  done  that  ?"  Lin  burst 
out. 

"  So  you're  scandalized,"  said  she,  punishing  him 
instantly.  "  I  reckon  it  does  take  a  decent  girl 
to  shock  you."  And  while  she  stood  laughing  at 


172  LIN  MCLEAN 

him  with  robust  irony,  poor  Lin  began  to  stam- 
mer that  he  meant  no  offence.  "  Why,  to  be  sure 
you  didn't !"  said  she.  "  But  I  do  enjoy  you  real 
thoroughly." 

"  Well,  m'm,"  protested  the  wincing  cow-punch- 
er, driven  back  to  addressing  her  as  "ma'am," 
"  we  ain't  used — " 

"  Don't  tangle  yourself  up  worse,  Mr.  McLean. 
No  more  am  I  *  used.'  I  have  never  slept  in  an 
empty  in  my  life.  And  why  is  that  ?  Just  because 
I've  never  had  to.  And  there's  the  difference 
between  you  boys  and  us.  You  do  lots  of  things 
you  don't  like,  and  tell  us.  And  we  put  up  with 
lots  of  things  we  don't  like,  but  we  never  let  you 
find  out.  I  know  you  meant  no  offence,"  she 
continued,  heartily,  softening  towards  her  crushed 
protector,  "  because  you're  a  gentleman.  And 
lands !  I'm  not  complaining  about  an  emp- 
ty. That  will  be  rich — if  I  can  have  the  door 
shut." 

Upon  this  she  went  out  to  view  the  cars,  Mr. 
McLean  hovering  behind  her  with  a  devoted, 
uneasy  countenance,  and  frequently  muttering 
"  Shucks  !"  while  the  agent  and  I  followed  with  a 
lamp,  for  the  dark  was  come.  With  our  help  she 
mounted  into  the  first  car,  and  then  into  the 
next,  taking  the  lamp.  And  while  she  scanned 
the  floor  and  corners,  and  slid  the  door  back  and 
forth,  Lin  whispered  in  my  ear  :  "  Her  name's 
Jessamine.  She  told  me.  Don't  yu'  like  that 
name  ?"  So  I  answered  him,  "  Yes,  very  much," 
thinking  that  some  larger  flower  —  but  still  a 
flower — might  have  been  more  apt. 

"  Nobody  seems  to  have  slept  in  these,"  said 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  173 

she,  stepping  down  ;  and  on  learning  that  even 
the  tramp  avoided  Separ  when  he  could,  she  ex- 
claimed, "What  lodging  could  be  handier  than 
this  !  Only  it  would  be  so  cute  if  you  had  a 
Louavull  an'  Nashvull  car,"  said  she.  "  'Twould 
seem  like  my  old  Kentucky  home!"  And  laugh- 
ing rather  sweetly  at  her  joke,  she  held  the  lamp 
up  to  read  the  car's  lettering.  "*D.  and  R.  G.' 
Oh,  that's  a  way-off  stranger  !  I  reckon  they're 
all  strange."  She  went  along  the  train  with  her 
lamp.  "  Yes, '  B.  and  M.'  and  '  S.  C.  and  P.'  Oh, 
this  is  rich  !  Nate  will  laugh  when  he  hears.  I'll 
choose  'C.,  B.  and  Q.'  That's  a  little  nearer  my 
country.  What  time  does  the  stage  start?  Por- 
ter, please  wake  'C.,  B.  and  Q.'  at  six,  sharp," 
said  she  to  Lin. 

From  this  point  of  the  evening  on,  I  think  of 
our  doings  —  their  doings  —  with  a  sort  of  un- 
changing homesickness.  Nothing  like  them  can 
ever  happen  again,  I  know  ;  for  it's  all  gone — 
settled,  sobered,  and  gone.  And  whatever  whole- 
somer  prose  of  good  fortune  waits  in  our  cup, 
how  I  thank  my  luck  for  this  swallow  of  frontier 
poetry  which  I  came  in  time  for  ! 

To  arrange  some  sort  of  bed  for  her  was  the 
next  thing,  and  we  made  a  good  shake-down — 
clean  straw  and  blankets  and  a  pillow,  and  the 
agent  would  have  brought  sheets  ;  but  though 
she  would  not  have  these,  she  did  not  resist — 
what  do  you  suppose? — a  looking-glass  for  next 
morning  !  And  we  got  a  bucket  of  water  and 
her  valise.  It  was  all  one  to  her,  she  said,  in 
what  car  Lin  and  I  put  up  ;  and  let  it  be  next 
door,  by  all  means,  if  it  pleased  him  to  think  he 


174  LIN  MCLEAN 

could  watch  over  her  safety  better  so  ;  and  she 
shut  herself  in,  bidding  us  good-night.  We  began 
spreading  straw  and  blankets  for  ourselves,  when 
a  whistle  sounded  far  and  long,  and  its  tone  rose 
in  pitch  as  it  came. 

"  I'll  get  him  to  run  right  to  the  corrals,"  said 
the  agent,  "  so  the  sheriff  can  tell  the  boys  he's 
not  after  them." 

"  That  '11  convince  'em  he  is,"  said  Lin.  "  Stop 
him  here,  or  let  him  go  through." 

But  we  were  not  to  steer  the  course  that  events 
took  now.  The  rails  of  the  main  line  beside  us 
brightened  in  wavering  parallels  as  the  head- 
light grew  down  upon  us,  and  in  this  same  mo- 
ment the  shoutings  at  the  corrals  chorused  in  a 
wild,  hilarious  threat.  The  burden  of  the  coming 
engine  heavily  throbbed  in  the  air  and  along  the 
steel,  and  met  and  mixed  with  the  hard,  light 
beating  of  hoofs.  The  sounds  approached  to- 
gether like  a  sort  of  charge,  and  I  stepped  be- 
tween the  freight-cars,  where  I  heard  Lin  order- 
ing the  girl  inside  to  lie  down  flat,  and  could  see 
the  agent  running  about  in  the  dust,  flapping 
his  arms  to  signal  with  as  much  coherence  as 
a  chicken  with  its  head  off.  I  had  very  short 
space  for  wonder  or  alarm.  The  edge  of  one  of 
my  freight-cars  glowed  suddenly  with  the  immi- 
nent headlight,  and  galloping  shots  invaded  the 
place.  The  horsemen  flew  by,  overreaching,  and 
leaning  back  and  lugging  against  their  impetus. 
They  passed  in  a  tangled  swirl,  and  their  dust  coil- 
ed up  thick  from  the  dark  ground  and  luminous- 
ly unfolded  across  the  glare  of  the  sharp-halted 
locomotive.  Then  they  wheeled,  and  clustered 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  175 

around  it  where  it  stood  by  our  cars,  its  air-brake 
pumping  deep  breaths,  and  the  internal  steam 
humming  through  its  bowels  ;  and  I  came  out  in 
time  to  see  Billy  Lusk  climb  its  front  with  callow, 
enterprising  shouts.  That  was  child's  play  ;  and 
the  universal  yell  now  raised  by  the  horsemen 
was  their  child's  play  too  ;  but  the  whole  thing 
could  so  precipitately  reel  into  the  fatal  that  my 
thoughts  stopped.  I  could  only  look  when  I  saw 
that  they  had  somehow  recognized  the  man  on 
the  engine  for  a  sheriff.  Two  had  sprung  from 
their  horses  and  were  making  boisterously  tow- 
ard the  cab,  while  Lin  McLean,  neither  boister- 
ous nor  joking,  was  going  to  the  cab  from  my  side, 
with  his  pistol  drawn,  to  keep  the  peace.  The 
engineer  sat  with  a  neutral  hand  on  the  lever, 
the  fireman  had  run  along  the  top  of  the  coal  in 
the  tender  and  descended  and  crouched  some- 
where, and  the  sheriff,  cool,  and  with  a  good- 
natured  eye  upon  all  parties,  was  just  beginning 
to  explain  his  errand,  when  some  rider  from  the 
crowd  cut  him  short  with  an  invitation  to  get 
down  and  have  a  drink.  At  the  word  of  ribald 
endearment  by  which  he  named  the  sheriff,  a 
passing  fierceness  hardened  the  officer's  face,  and 
the  new  yell  they  gave  was  less  playful.  Waiting 
no  more  explanations,  they  swarmed  against  the 
locomotive,  and  McLean  pulled  himself  up  on 
the  step.  The  loud  talking  fell  at  a  stroke  to 
let  business  go  on,  and  in  this  silence  came  the 
noise  of  a  sliding-door.  At  that  I  looked,  and 
they  all  looked,  and  stood  harmless,  like  children 
surprised.  For  there  on  the  threshold  of  the 
freight  -  car,  with  the  interior  darkness  behind 


176  LIN  MCLEAN 

her,  and  touched  by  the  headlight's  diverging 
rays,  stood  Jessamine  Buckner. 

"  Will  you  gentlemen  do  me  a  favor  ?"  said  she. 
"  Strangers,  maybe,  have  no  right  to  ask  favors, 
but  I  reckon  you'll  let  that  pass  this  time.  For 
I'm  real  sleepy  !"  She  smiled  as  she  brought  this 
out.  "I've  been  four  days  and  nights  on  the 
cars,  and  to-morrow  I've  got  to  stage  to  Buffalo. 
You  see  I'll  not  be  here  to  spoil  your  fun  to-mor- 
row night,  and  I  want  boys  to  be  boys  just  as 
much  as  ever  they  can.  Won't  you  put  it  off  till 
to-morrow  night  ?" 

In  their  amazement  they  found  no  spokes- 
man ;  but  I  saw  Lin  busy  among  them,  and  that 
some  word  was  passing  through  their  groups. 
After  the  brief  interval  of  stand-still  they  began 
silently  to  get  on  their  horses,  while  the  looming 
engine  glowed  and  pumped  its  breath,  and  the 
sheriff  and  engineer  remained  as  they  were. 

"  Good  -  night,  lady,"  said  a  voice  among  the 
moving  horsemen,  but  the  others  kept  their 
abashed  native  silence ;  and  thus  they  slowly 
filed  away  to  the  corrals.  The  figures,  in  their 
loose  shirts  and  leathern  chaps,  passed  from  the 
dimness  for  a  moment  through  the  cone  of  light 
in  front  of  the  locomotive,  so  that  the  metal 
about  them  made  here  and  there  a  faint,  vanish- 
ing glint ;  and  here  and  there  in  the  departing 
column  a  bold,  half-laughing  face  turned  for  a 
look  at  the  girl  in  the  doorway,  and  then  was 
gone  again  into  the  dimness. 

The  sheriff  in  the  cab  took  off  his  hat  to  Miss 
Buckner,  remarking  that  she  should  belong  to 
the  force  ;  and  as  the  bell  rang  and  the  engine 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  177 

moved,  off  popped  young  Billy  Lusk  from  his 
cow  -  catcher.  With  an  exclamation  of  horror 
she  sprang  down,  and  Mr.  McLean  appeared, 
and,  with  all  a  parent's  fright  and  rage,  held 
the  boy  by  the  arm  grotesquely  as  the  sheriff 
steamed  by. 

"  I  ain't  a-going  to  chase  it,"  said  young  Billy, 
struggling. 

"  I've  a  mind  to  cowhide  you,"  said  Lin. 

But  Miss  Buckner  interposed.  "  Oh,  well,"  said 
she,  "  next  time  ;  if  he  does  it  next  time.  It's  so 
late  to-night !  You'll  not  frighten  us  that  way 
again  if  he  lets  you  off  ?"  she  asked  Billy. 

"  No,"  said  Billy,  looking  at  her  with  interest. 
"  Father  'd  have  cowhided  me  anyway,  I  guess," 
he  added,  meditatively. 

"  Do  you  call  him  father  ?" 

"  Ah,  father's  at  Laramie,"  said  Billy,  with  dis- 
gust. "  He'd  not  stop  for  your  asking.  Lin 
don't  bother  me  much." 

"  You  quit  talking  and  step  up  there  !"  ordered 
his  guardian.  "  Well,  m'm,  I  guess  yu'  can  sleep 
good  now  in  there." 

"  If  it  was  only  an  '  L.  and  N.'  I'd  not  have  a 
thing  against  it  !  Good  -  night,  Mr.  McLean  ; 
good-night,  young  Mr. — " 

"  I'm  Billy  Lusk.  I  can  ride  Chalkeye's  pinto 
that  bucked  Honey  Wiggin." 

"  I  am  sure  you  can  ride  finely,  Mr.  Lusk. 
Maybe  you  and  I  can  take  a  ride  together. 
Pleasant  dreams  !" 

She  nodded  and  smiled  to  him,  and  slid  her 
door  to  ;  and  Billy  considered  it,  remarking  :  "  I 
like  her.  What  makes  her  live  in  a  car  ?" 

12 


178  LIN  MCLEAN 

But  he  was  drowsing  while  I  told  him  ;  and  I 
lifted  him  up  to  Lin,  who  took  him  in  his  own 
blankets,  where  he  fell  immediately  asleep.  One 
distant  whistle  showed  how  far  the  late  engine 
had  gone  from  us.  We  left  our  car  open,  and  I 
lay  enjoying  the  cool  air.  Thus  was  I  drifting 
off,  when  I  grew  aware  of  a  figure  in  the  door. 
It  was  Lin,  standing  in  his  stockings  and  not 
much  else,  with  his  pistol.  He  listened,  and  then 
leaped  down,  light  as  a  cat.  I  heard  some  re- 
pressed talking,  and  lay  in  expectancy  ;  but  back 
he  came,  noiseless  in  his  stockings,  and  as  he  slid 
into  bed  I  asked  what  the  matter  was.  He  had 
found  the  Texas  boy,  Manassas  Donohoe,  by  the 
girl's  car,  with  no  worse  intention  than  keeping 
a  watch  on  it.  "  So  I  gave  him  to  understand," 
said  Lin,  "  that  I  had  no  objection  to  him  amus- 
ing himself  playing  picket-line,  but  that  I  guess- 
ed I  was  enough  guard,  and  he  would  find  sleep 
healthier  for  his  system."  After  this  I  went  to 
sleep  wholly ;  but,  waking  once  in  the  night, 
thought  I  heard  some  one  outside,  and  learned 
in  the  morning  from  Lin  that  the  boy  had  not 
gone  until  the  time  came  for  him  to  join  his  out- 
fit at  the  corrals.  And  I  was  surprised  that  Lin, 
the  usually  good  -  hearted,  should  find  nothing 
but  mirth  in  the  idea  of  this  unknown,  unthanked 
young  sentinel.  "  Sleeping's  a  heap  better  for 
them  kind  till  they  get  their  growth,"  was  his 
single  observation. 

But  when  Separ  had  dwindled  to  toys  behind 
us  in  the  journeying  stage  I  told  Miss  Jessamine,  i 
and  although  she  laughed  too,  it  was  with  a  note 
that  young  Texas  would  have  liked  to  hear  ;  and 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  179 

she  hoped  she  might  see  him  upon  her  return,  to 
thank  him. 

"  Any  Jack  can  walk  around  all  night,"  said  Mr. 
McLean,  disparagingly. 

"  Well,  then,  and  I  know  a  Jack  who  didn't," 
observed  the  young  lady. 

This  speech  caused  her  admirer  to  be  full  of 
explanations  ;  so  that  when  she  saw  how  readily 
she  could  perplex  him,  and  yet  how  capable  and 
untiring  he  was  about  her  comfort,  helping  her 
out  or  tucking  her  in  at  the  stations  where  we 
had  a  meal  or  changed  horses,  she  enjoyed  the 
hours  very  much,  in  spite  of  their  growing  awk- 
wardness. 

But  oh,  the  sparkling,  unbashful  Lin  !  Some- 
times he  sat  himself  beside  her  to  be  close,  and 
then  he  would  move  opposite,  the  better  to  behold 
her. 

Never,  except  once  long  after  (when  sorrow 
manfully  borne  had  still  further  refined  his  clay), 
have  I  heard  Lin's  voice  or  seen  his  look  so  win- 
ning. No  doubt  many  a  male  bird  cares  nothing 
what  neighbor  bird  overhears  his  spring  song 
from  the  top  of  the  open  tree,  but  I  extremely 
doubt  if  his  lady  -  love,  even  if  she  be  a  frank, 
bouncing  robin,  does  not  prefer  to  listen  from 
some  thicket,  and  not  upon  the  public  lawn. 
Jessamine  grew  silent  and  almost  peevish ;  and 
from  discourse  upon  man  and  woman  she  hopped, 
she  skipped,  she  flew.  When  Lin  looked  at  his 
watch  and  counted  the  diminished  hours  be- 
tween her  and  Buffalo,  she  smiled  to  herself;  but 
from  mention  of  her  brother  she  shrank,  glanc- 
ing swiftly  at  me  and  my  well-assumed  slumber. 


180  LIN  MCLEAN 

And  it  was  with  indignation  and  self-pity  that 
I  climbed  out  in  the  hot  sun  at  last  beside  the 
driver  and  small  Billy. 

"  I  know  this  road,"  piped  Billy,  on  the  box. 
"  I  camped  here  with  father  when  mother  was 
off  that  time.  You  can  take  a  left-hand  trail  by 
those  cottonwoods  and  strike  the  mountains." 

So  I  inquired  what  game  he  had  then  shot. 

"  Ah,  just  a  sage-hen.  Lin's  a-going  to  let  me 
shoot  a  bear,  you  know.  What  made  Lin  marry 
mother  when  father  was  around  ?" 

The  driver  gave  me  a  look  over  Billy's  head, 
and  I  gave  him  one  ;  and  I  instructed  Billy  that 
people  supposed  his  father  was  dead.  I  withheld 
that  his  mother  gave  herself  out  as  Miss  Peck  in 
the  days  when  Lin  met  her  on  Bear  Creek. 

The  formidable  nine-year-old  pondered.  "  The 
geography  says  they  used  to  have  a  lot  of  wives 
at  Salt  Lake  City.  Is  there  a  place  where  a  wom- 
an can  have  a  lot  of  husbands?" 

"  It  don't  especially  depend  on  the  place,"  re- 
marked the  driver  to  me. 

"  Because,"  Billy  went  on,  "  Bert  Taylor  told 
me  in  recess  that  mother  'd  had  a  lot,  and  I  told 
him  he  lied,  and  the  other  boys  they  laughed, 
and  I  blacked  Bert's  eye  on  him,  and  I'd  have 
blacked  the  others  too,  only  Miss  Wood  came  out. 
I  wouldn't  tell  her  what  Bert  said,  and  Bert 
wouldn't,  and  Sophy  Armstrong  told  her.  Bert's 
father  found  out,  and  he  come  round,  and  I 
thought  he  was  a-going  to  lick  me  about  the  eye, 
and  he  licked  Bert !  Say,  am  I  Lin's,  honest  ?" 

"  No,  Billy,  you're  not,"  I  said. 

"  Wish  I  was.     They  couldn't  get  me  back  to 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  181 

Laramie  then  ;  but,  oh,  bother  !  I'd  not  go  for 
'em  !  I'd  like  to  see  'em  try  !  Lin  wouldn't  leave 
me  go.  You  ain't  married,  are  you  ?  No  more 
is  Lin  now,  I  guess.  A  good  many  are,  but  I 
wouldn't  want  to.  I  don't  think  anything  of  'em. 
I've  seen  mother  take  'pothecary  stuff  on  the  sly. 
She's  whaled  me  worse  than  Lin  ever  does.  I 
guess  he  wouldn't  want  to  be  mother's  husband 
again  ;  and  if  he  does,"  said  Billy,  his  voice  sud- 
denly vindictive,  "  I'll  quit  him  and  skip." 

"  No  danger,  Bill,"  said  I. 

"  How  would  the  nice  lady  inside  please  you  ?" 
inquired  the  driver. 

"Ah,  pshaw!  she  ain't  after  Lin!"  sang  out 
Billy,  loud  and  scornful.  "  She's  after  her  broth- 
er. She's  all  right,  though,"  he  added,  approv- 
ingly. 

At  this  all  talk  stopped  short  inside,  reviving 
in  a  casual,  scanty  manner  ;  while  unconscious 
Billy  Lusk,  tired  of  the  one  subject,  now  spoke 
cheerfully  of  birds'  eggs. 

Who  knows  the  child-soul,  young  in  days,  yet 
old  as  Adam  and  the  hills  ?  That  school  -  yard 
slur  about  his  mother  was  as  dim  to  his  under- 
standing as  to  the  offender's,  yet  mysterious 
nature  had  bid  him  go  to  instant  war  !  How 
foreseeing  in  Lin  to  choke  the  unfounded  jest 
about  his  relation  to  Billy  Lusk,  in  hopes  to  save 
the  boy's  ever  awakening  to  the  facts  of  his  moth- 
er's life  !  "  Though,"  said  the  driver,  an  easy- 
going cynic,  "  folks  with  lots  of  fathers  will  find 
heaps  of  brothers  in  this  country  !"  But  pres- 
ently he  let  Billy  hold  the  reins,  and  at  the  next 
station  carefully  lifted  him  down  and  up.  "  I've 


1 82  LIN  MCLEAN 

knowed  that  woman,  too,"  he  whispered  to  me. 
"  Sidney,  Nebraska.  Lusk  was  off  half  the  time. 
We  laughed  when  she  fooled  Lin  into  marryin' 
her.  Come  to  think,"  he  mused,  as  twilight  deep- 
ened around  our  clanking  stage,  and  small  Billy 
slept  sound  between  us,  "  there's  scarcely  a  thing 
in  life  you  get  a  laugh  out  of  that  don't  make  so- 
berness for  somebody." 

Soberness  had  now  visited  the  pair  behind  us  ; 
even  Lin's  lively  talk  had  quieted,  and  his  tones 
were  low  and  few.  But  though  Miss  Jessamine 
at  our  next  change  of  horses  "  hoped "  I  would 
come  inside,  I  knew  she  did  not  hope  very  ear- 
nestly, and  outside  I  remained  until  Buffalo. 

Journeying  done,  her  face  revealed  the  strain 
beneath  her  brave  brightness,  and  the  haunting 
care  she  could  no  longer  keep  from  her  eyes. 
The  imminence  of  the  jail  and  the  meeting  had 
made  her  cheeks  white  and  her  countenance  seem 
actually  smaller ;  and  when,  reminding  me  that 
we  should  meet  again  soon,  she  gave  me  her 
hand,  it  was  ice-cold.  I  think  she  was  afraid  Lin 
might  offer  to  go  with  her.  But  his  heart  under- 
stood the  lonely  sacredness  of  her  next  half -hour, 
and  the  cow-puncher,  standing  aside  for  her  to 
pass,  lifted  his  hat  wistfully  and  spoke  never  a 
word.  For  a  moment  he  looked  after  her  with 
sombre  emotion  ;  but  the  court-house  and  prison 
stood  near  and  in  sight,  and,  as  plain  as  if  he  had 
said  so,  I  saw  him  suddenly  feel  she  should  not 
be  stared  at  going  up  those  steps  ;  it  must  be  all 
alone,  the  pain  and  the  joy  of  that  reprieve  !  He 
turned  away  with  me,  and  after  a  few  silent  steps 
said,  "  Wasted  !  all  wasted  !" 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  183 

"  Let  us  hope — "  I  began. 

"  You're  not  a  fool,"  he  broke  in,  roughly.  "  You 
don't  hope  anything." 

"  He'll  start  life  elsewhere,"  said  I. 

"Elsewhere!  Yes,  keep  starting  till  all  the 
elsewheres  know  him  like  Powder  River  knows 
him.  But  she  !  I  have  had  to  sit  and  hear  her 
tell  and  tell  about  him  ;  all  about  back  in  Ken- 
tucky playin'  around  the  farm,  and  how  she 
raised  him  after  the  old  folks  died.  Then  he  got 
bigger  and  made  her  sell  their  farm,  and  she  told 
how  it  was  right  he  should  turn  it  into  money 
and  get  his  half.  I  did  not  dare  say  a  word,  for 
she'd  have  just  bit  my  head  off,  and — and  that 
would  sure  hurt  me  now  !"  Lin  brought  up  with 
a  comical  chuckle.  "  And  she  went  to  work,  and 
he  cleared  out,  and  no  more  seen  or  heard  of  him. 
That's  for  five  years,  and  she'd  given  up  tracing 
him,  when  one  morning  she  reads  in  the  paper 
about  how  her  long-lost  brother  is  convicted  for 
forgery.  That's  the  way  she  knows  he's  not 
dead,  and  she  takes  her  savings  off  her  railroad 
salary  and  starts  for  him.  She  was  that  hasty 
she  thought  it  was  Buffalo,  New  York,  till  she 
got  in  the  cars  and  read  the  paper  over  again. 
But  she  had  to  go  as  far  as  Cincinnati,  either 
way.  She  has  paid  every  cent  of  the  money  he 
stole."  We  had  come  to  the  bridge,  and  Lin 
jerked  a  stone  into  the  quick  little  river.  "  She's 
awful  strict  in  some  ways.  Thought  Buffalo 
must  be  a  wicked  place  because  of  the  shops 
bein'  open  Sunday.  Now  if  that  was  all  Buf- 
falo's wickedness !  And  she  thinks  divorce  is 
mostly  sin.  But  her  heart  is  a  shield  for  Nate. 


184  LIN  MCLEAN 

Her   face    is    as  beautiful   as  her    actions,"  he 
added. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "and  would  you  make  such  a 
villain  your  brother-in-law  ?" 

He  whirled  round  and  took  both  my  shoulders. 
"  Come  walking  !"  he  urged.  "  I  must  talk  some." 
So  we  followed  the  stream  out  of  town  towards 
the  mountains.  "  I  came  awful  near  asking  her 
in  the  stage,"  said  he. 

"  Goodness,  Lin  !  give  yourself  time  !" 

"  Time  can't  increase  my  feelings." 

"  Hers,  man,  hers  !  How  many  hours  have  you 
known  her  ?" 

"  Hours  and  hours  !  You're  talking  foolish- 
ness !  What  have  they  got  to  do  with  it  ?  And 
she  will  listen  to  me.  I  can  tell  she  will.  I  know 
I  can  be  so  she'll  listen,  and  it  will  go  all  right, 
for  I'll  ask  so  hard.  And  everything  '11  come 
out  straight.  Yu'  see,  I've  not  been  spending  to 
speak  of  since  Billy's  on  my  hands,  and  now  I'll 
fix  up  my  cabin  and  finish  my  fencing  and  my 
ditch — and  she's  going  to  like  Box  Elder  Creek 
better  than  Shawhan.  She's  the  first  I've  ever 
loved." 

"  Then  I'd  like  to  ask — "  I  cried  out. 

"  Ask  away  !"  he  exclaimed,  inattentively,  in 
his  enthusiasm. 

"  When  you — "  but  I  stopped,  perceiving  it  im- 
possible. It  was,  of  course,  not  the  many  tran- 
sient passions  on  which  he  had  squandered  his 
substance,  but  the  one  where  faith  also  had  seemed 
to  unite.  Had  he  not  married  once,  innocent  of 
the  woman's  being  already  a  wife  ?  But  I  stopped, 
for  to  trench  here  was  not  for  me  or  any  one.  • 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  185 

And  my  pause  strangely  flashed  on  him  some- 
thing of  that  I  had  in  my  mind. 

"  No,"  he  said,  his  eyes  steady  and  serious  upon 
me,  "  don't  you  ask  about  the  things  you're  mean- 
ing." Then  his  face  grew  radiant  and  rather  stern. 
"  Do  you  suppose  I  don't  know  she's  too  good  for 
me  ?  And  that  some  bygones  can't  ever  be  by- 
gones ?  But  if  you/'  he  said,  "  never  come  to  look 
away  up  to  a  woman  from  away  down,  and  mean 
to  win  her  just  the  same  as  if  you  did  deserve 
her,  why,  you'll  make  a  turruble  mess  of  the 
whole  business !" 

When  we  walked  in  silence  for  a  long  while,  he 
lighted  again  with  the  blossoming  dawn  of  his 
sentiment.  I  thought  of  the  coarse  yet  taking 
vagabond  of  twenty  I  had  once  chanced  upon, 
and  hunted  and  camped  with  since  through  the 
years.  Decidedly  he  was  not  that  boy  to-day!  It 
is  not  true  that  all  of  us  rise  through  adversity, 
any  more  than  that  all  plants  need  shadow.  Some 
starve  out  of  the  sunshine  ;  and  I  have  seen  mis- 
ery deaden  once  kind  people  to  everything  but 
self — almost  the  saddest  sight  in  the  world  !  But 
Lin's  character  had  not  stood  well  the  ordeal  of 
happiness,  and  for  him  certainly  harsh  days  and 
responsibility  had  been  needed  to  ripen  the  spirit. 
Yes,  Jessamine  Buckner  would  have  been  much 
too  good  for  him  before  that  humiliation  of  his 
marriage,  and  this  care  of  young  Billy  with  which 
he  had  loaded  himself.  "  Lin,"  said  I,  "  I  will 
drink  your  health  and  luck." 

"  I'm  healthy  enough,"  said  he  ;  and  we  came 
back  to  the  main  street  and  into  the  main  saloon. 

"  How  d'ye,  boys  ?"  said  some  one,  and  there 


i  86  LIN  MCLEAN 

was  Nate  Buckner.  "  It's  on  me  to-day,"  he  con- 
tinued, shoving  whiskey  along  the  bar ;  and  I 
saw  he  was  a  little  drunk.  "  I'm  setting  'em  up," 
he  continued.  "Why?  Why,  because"  —  he 
looked  around  for  appreciation — "because  it's 
not  every  son-of-a-gun  in  Wyoming  gets  par- 
doned by  Governor  Barker.  I'm  important,  I 
want  you  to  understand,"  he  pursued  to  the  cold 
bystanders.  "  They'll  have  a  picture  of  me  in 
the  Cheyenne  paper.  'The  Bronco  -  buster  of 
Powder  River  !'  They  can't  do  without  me  !  If 
any  son-of-a-gun  here  thinks  he  knows  how  to 
break  a  colt,"  he  shouted,  looking  around  with 
the  irrelevant  fierceness  of  drink — and  then  his 
challenge  ebbed  vacantly  in  laughter  as  the  sub- 
ject blurred  in  his  mind.  "  You're  not  drinking, 
Lin,"  said  he. 

"  No,"  said  McLean,  "  I'm  not." 

"  Sworn  off  again  ?  Well,  water  never  did 
agree  with  me." 

"Yu'  never  gave  water  the  chance,"  retorted 
the  cow-puncher,  and  we  left  the  place  without 
my  having  drunk  his  health. 

It  was  a  grim  beginning,  this  brag  attempt  to 
laugh  his  reputation  down,  with  the  jail  door 
scarce  closed  behind  him.  "  Folks  are  not  going 
to  like  that,"  said  Lin,  as  we  walked  across  the 
bridge  again  to  the  hotel.  Yet  the  sister,  left 
alone  here  after  an  hour  at  most  of  her  brother's 
company,  would  pretend  it  was  a  matter  of 
course.  Nate  was  not  in,  she  told  us  at  once. 
He  had  business  to  attend  to  and  friends  to  see  ; 
he  must  get  back  to  Riverside  and  down  in  that 
country  where  colts  were  waiting  for  him.  He 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  187 

was  the  only  one  the  E.  K.  outfit  would  allow  to 
handle  their  young  stock.  Did  we  know  that  ? 
And  she  was  going  to  stay  with  a  Mrs.  Pierce  down 
there  for  a  while,  near  where  Nate  would  be 
working.  All  this  she  told  us  ;  but  when  he  did 
not  return  to  dine  with  her  on  this  first  day,  I 
think  she  found  it  hard  to  sustain  her  wilful 
cheeriness.  Lin  offered  to  take  her  driving  to 
see  the  military  post  and  dress  parade  at  retreat, 
and  Cloud's  Peak,  and  Buffalo's  various  sights  ; 
but  she  made  excuses  and  retired  to  her  room. 
Nate,  however,  was  at  tea,  shaven  clean,  with 
good  clothes,  and  well  conducted.  His  tone  and 
manner  to  Jessamine  were  confidential  and  caress- 
ing, and  offended  Mr.  McLean,  so  that  I  observed 
to  him  that  it  was  scarcely  reasonable  to  be  jeal- 
ous. 

"Oh,  no  jealousy!"  said  he.  "But  he  comes 
in  and  kisses  her,  and  he  kisses  her  good-night, 
and  us  strangers  looking  on  !  It's  such  oncon- 
trollable  affection,  yu'  see,  after  never  writing 
for  five  years.  I  expect  she  must  have  some  of 
her  savings  left." 

It  is  true  that  the  sister  gave  the  brother  money 
more  than  once  ;  and  as  our  ways  lay  together,  I 
had  chances  to  see  them  both,  and  to  wonder 
if  her  joy  at  being  with  him  once  again  was  go- 
ing to  last.  On  the  road  to  Riverside  I  certain- 
ly heard  Jessamine  beg  him  to  return  home 
with  her ;  and  he  ridiculed  such  a  notion.  What 
proper  life  for  a  live  man  was  that  dead  place 
back  East  ?  he  asked  her.  I  thought  he  might 
have  expressed  some  regret  that  they  must  dwell 
so  far  apart,  or  some  intention  to  visit  her  now 


1 88  LIN  MCLEAN 

and  then  ;  but  he  said  nothing  of  the  sort,  though 
he  spoke  volubly  of  himself  and  his  prospects.  I 
suppose  this  spectacle  of  brother  and  sister  had 
rubbed  Lin  the  wrong  way  too  much,  for  he  held 
himself  and  Billy  aloof,  joining  me  on  the  road  but 
once,  and  then  merely  to  give  me  the  news  that 
people  here  wanted  no  more  of  Nate  Buckner  ; 
he  would  be  run  out  of  the  country,  and  re- 
spect for  the  sister  was  all  that  meanwhile  saved 
him.  But  Buckner,  like  so  many  spared  criminals, 
seemed  brazenly  unaware  he  was  •  disgraced,  and 
went  hailing  loudly  any  riders  or  drivers  we  met, 
while  beside  him  his  sister  sat  close  and  straight, 
her  stanch  affection  and  support  for  the  world 
to  see.  For  all  she  let  appear,  she  might  have 
been  bringing  him  back  from  some  gallant  hero- 
ism achieved  ;  and  as  I  rode  along  the  travesty 
seemed  more  and  more  pitiful,  the  outcome  dark- 
er and  darker. 

At  all  times  is  Riverside  beautiful,  but  most 
beautiful  when  the  sun  draws  down  through  the 
openings  of  the  hills.  From  each  one  a  stream 
comes  flowing  clearly  out  into  the  plain,  and 
fields  spread  green  along  the  margins.  It  was 
beneath  the  long  -  slanted  radiance  of  evening 
that  we  saw  Blue  Creek  and  felt  its  coolness  rise 
among  the  shifting  veils  of  light.  The  red  bluff 
eastward,  the  tall  natural  fortress,  lost  its  stern 
masonry  of  shapes,  and  loomed  a  soft  towering 
enchantment  of  violet  and  amber  and  saffron  in 
the  changing  rays.  The  cattle  stood  quiet  about 
the  levels,  and  horses  were  moving  among  the 
restless  colts.  These  the  brother  bade  his  sister 
look  at,  for  with  them  was  his  glory  ;  and  I  heard 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  189 

him  boasting  of  his  skill — truthful  boasting,  to 
be  sure.  Had  he  been  honest  in  his  dealings, 
the  good-will  that  man's  courage  and  dashing 
appearance  beget  in  men  would  have  brought 
him  more  employment  than  he  could  have  under- 
taken. He  told  Jessamine  his  way  of  breaking  a 
horse  that  few  would  dare,  and  she  listened  eager- 
ly. "  Do  you  remember  when  I  used  to  hold  the 
pony  for  you  to  get  on  ?"  she  said.  "  You  always 
would  scare  me,  Nate  !"  And  he  replied,  fluently, 
Yes,  yes  ;  did  she  see  that  horse  there,  near  the 
fence  ?  He  was  a  four-year-old,  an  outlaw,  and 
she  would  find  no  one  had  tried  getting  on  his 
back  since  he  had  been  absent.  This  was  the  first 
question  he  asked  on  reaching  the  cabin,  where 
various  neighbors  were  waiting  the  mail  -  rider  ; 
and,  finding  he  was  right,  he  turned  in  pride  to 
Jessamine. 

"They  don't  know  how  to  handle  that  horse," 
said  he.  "  I  told  you  so.  Give  me  a  rope." 

Did  she  notice  the  cold  greeting  Nate  received  ? 
I  think  not.  Not  only  was  their  welcome  to  her 
the  kinder,  but  any  one  is  glad  to  witness  bold 
riding,  and  this  chance  made  a  stir  which  the 
sister  may  have  taken  for  cordiality.  But  Lin 
gave  me  a  look  ;  for  it  was  the  same  here  as  it 
had  been  in  the  Buffalo  saloon. 

"  The  trick  is  easy  enough,"  said  Nate,  arriving 
with  his  outlaw,  and  liking  an  audience.  "  You 
don't  want  a  bridle,  but  a  rope  hackamore  like 
this — Spanish  style.  Then  let  them  run  as  hard 
as  they  want,  and  on  a  sudden  reach  down  your 
arm  and  catch  the  hackamore  short,  close  up  by 
the  mouth,  and  jerk  them  round  quick  and  heavy 


190  LIN  MCLEAN 

at  full  speed.  They  quit  their  fooling  after  one 
or  two  doses.  Now  watch  your  outlaw  !" 

He  went  into  the  saddle  so  swift  and  secure 
that  the  animal,  amazed,  trembled  stock-still,  then 
sprang  headlong.  It  stopped,  vicious  and  know- 
ing, and  plunged  in  a  rage,  but  could  do  nothing 
with  the  man,  and  bolted  again,  and  away  in  a 
straight  blind  line  over  the  meadow,  when  the 
rider  leaned  forward  to  his  trick.  The  horse 
veered  in  a  jagged  swerve,  rolled  over  and  over 
with  its  twisted  impetus,  and  up  on  its  feet  and 
on  without  a  stop,  the  man  still  seated  and  up- 
right in  the  saddle.  How  we  cheered  to  see  it  ! 
But  the  figure  now  tilted  strangely,  and  some- 
thing awful  and  nameless  came  over  us  and 
chilled  our  noise  to  silence.  The  horse,  dazed 
and  tamed  by  the  fall,  brought  its  burden  tow- 
ards us,  a  wobbling  thing,  falling  by  small  shakes 
backward,  until  the  head  sank  on  the  horse's 
rump. 

"  Come  away,"  said  Lin  McLean  to  Jessamine  ; 
and  at  his  voice  she  obeyed  and  went,  leaning  on 
his  arm. 

Jessamine  sat  by  her  brother  until  he  died, 
twelve  hours  afterwards,  having  spoken  and 
known  nothing.  The  whole  weight  of  the  horse 
had  crushed  him  internally.  He  must  have  be- 
come almost  instantly  unconscious,  being  held  in 
the  saddle  by  his  spurs,  which  had  caught  in  the 
hair  cinch  ;  it  may  be  that  our  loud  cheer  was  the 
last  thing  of  this  world  that  he  knew.  The  inju- 
ries to  his  body  made  impossible  any  taking  him 
home,  which  his  sister  at  first  wished  to  do.  "  Why, 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  IQI 

I  came  here  to  bring  him  home,"  she  said,  with  a 
smile  and  tone  like  cheerfulness  in  wax.  Her 
calm,  the  unearthly  ease  with  which  she  spoke  to 
any  comer  (and  she  was  surrounded  with  rough 
kindness),  embarrassed  the  listeners  ;  she  saw  her 
calamity  clear  as  they  did,  but  was  sleep-walking 
in  it.  It  was  Lin  gave  her  what  she  needed — the 
repose  of  his  strong,  silent  presence.  He  spoke 
no  sympathy  and  no  advice,  nor  even  did  he 
argue  with  her  about  the  burial ;  he  perceived 
somehow  that  she  did  not  really  hear  what  was 
said  to  her,  and  that  these  first  griefless,  sensible 
words  came  from  some  mechanism  of  the  nerves  ; 
so  he  kept  himself  near  her,  and  let  her  tell  her 
story  as  she  would.  Once  I  heard  him  say  to 
her,  with  the  same  authority  of  that  first  "  come 
away  "  :  "  Now  you've  had  enough  of  the  talking. 
Come  for  a  walk."  Enough  of  the  talking — as  if 
it  were  a  treatment !  How  did  he  think  of  that  ? 
Jessamine,  at  any  rate,  again  obeyed  him,  and  I 
saw  the  two  going  quietly  about  in  the  meadows 
and  along  the  curving  brook  ;  and  that  night  she 
slept  well.  On  one  only  point  did  the  cow-puncher 
consult  me. 

"  They  figured  to  put  Nate  on  top  of  that  bald 
mound,"  said  he.  "  But  she  has  talked  about  the 
flowers  and  shade  where  the  old  folks  lie,  and 
where  she  wants  him  to  be  alongside  of  them. 
I've  not  let  her  look  at  him  to-day,  for — well,  she 
might  get  the  way  he  looks  now  on  her  memory. 
But  I'd  like  to  show  you  my  idea  before  going 
further." 

Lin  had  indeed  chosen  a  beautiful  place,  and  so 
I  told  him  at  the  first  sight  of  it. 


1 92  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  That's  all  I  wanted  to  know,"  said  he.  "  I'll 
fix  the  rest." 

I  believe  he  never  once  told  Jessamine  the  body 
could  not  travel  so  far  as  Kentucky.  I  think  he 
let  her  live  and  talk  and  grieve  from  hour  to  hour, 
and  then  led  her  that  afternoon  to  the  nook  of 
sunlight  and  sheltering  trees,  and  won  her  con- 
sent to  it  thus  ,  for  there  was  Nate  laid,  and  there 
she  went  to  sit,  alone.  Lin  did  not  go  with  her 
on  those  walks. 

But  now  something  new  was  on  the  .fellow's 
mind.  He  was  plainly  occupied  with  it,  whatever 
else  he  was  doing,  and  he  had  some  active  cattle- 
work.  On  my  asking  him  if  Jessamine  Buckner 
had  decided  when  to  return  east,  he  inquired  of 
me,  angrily,  what  was  there  in  Kentucky  she  could 
not  have  in  Wyoming  ?  Consequently,  though  I 
surmised  what  he  must  be  debating,  I  felt  myself 
invited  to  keep  out  of  his  confidence,  and  I  did  so. 
My  advice  to  him  would  have  been  ill  received, 
and — as  was  soon  to  be  made  plain — would  have 
done  his  delicacy  injustice.  Next,  one  morning 
he  and  Billy  were  gone.  My  first  thought  was 
that  he  had  rejoined  Jessamine  at  Mrs.  Pierce's, 
where  she  was,  and  left  me  away  over  here  on 
Bear  Creek,  where  we  had  come  for  part  of  a 
week. 

But  stuck  in  my  hat-band  I  found  a  pencilled 
farewell. 

Now  Mr.  McLean  constructed  perhaps  three  let- 
ters in  the  year  —  painful,  serious  events  —  like 
an  interview  with  some  important  person  with 
whom  your  speech  must  decorously  flow.  No 
matter  to  whom  he  was  writing,  it  froze  all  nat- 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE 


'93 


ure  stiff  in  each  word  he  achieved  ;  and  his  bald 
business  diction  and  wild  archaic  penmanship 
made  documents  that  I  value  among  my  choic- 
est correspondence  ;  this  one,  especially  : 

4 '  Wensday  four  a.  m. 

44  DEAR  SIR  this  is  to  Inform  you  that  i  have  gone  to  Separ 
on  important  bisness  where  i  expect  to  meet  you  on  your  arrival 
at  same  point.  You  will  confer  a  favor  and  oblidge  undersigned 
by  Informing  Miss  J.  Buckner  of  date  (if  soon)  you  fix  for  re- 
turning per  stage  to  Separ  as  Miss  J.  Buckner  may  prefer  com- 
pany for  the  trip  being  long  and  poor  accommodations. 

"  Yours  &c.  L.  McLEAN." 

This  seemed  to  point  but  one  way ;  and  (un- 
charitable though  it  sound)  that  this  girl,  so  close 
upon  bereavement,  should  be  able  to  give  herself 
to  a  lover  was  distasteful  to  me. 

But,  most  extraordinary,  Lin  had  gone  away 
without  a  word  to  her,  and  she  was  left  as  plainly 
in  the  dark  as  myself.  After  her  first  frank  sur- 
prise at  learning  of  his  departure,  his  name  did 
not  come  again  from  her  lips,  at  any  rate  to  me. 
Good  Mrs.  Pierce  dropped  a  word  one  day  as  to 
her  opinion  of  men  who  deceive  women  into  ex- 
pecting something  from  them. 

"  Let  us  talk  straight,"  said  I.  "  Do  you  mean 
that  Miss  Buckner  says  that,  or  that  you  say  it  ?" 

"  Why,  the  poor  thing  says  nothing  !"  exclaimed 
the  lady.  "  It's  like  a  man  to  think  she  would. 
And  I'll  not  say  anything,  either,  for  you're  all 
just  the  same,  except  when  you're  worse ;  and 
that  Lin  McLean  is  going  to  know  what  I  think 
of  him  next  time  we  meet." 

He  did.  On  that  occasion  the  kind  old  dame 
13 


194  LIN  MCLEAN 

told  him  he  was  the  best  boy  in  the  country,  and 
stood  on  her  toes  and  kissed  him.  But  mean- 
while we  did  not  know  why  he  had  gone,  and 
Jessamine  (though  he  was  never  subtle  or  cruel 
enough  to  plan  such  a  thing)  missed  him,  and 
thus  in  her  loneliness  had  the  chance  to  learn 
how  much  he  had  been  to  her. 

Though  pressed  to  stay  indefinitely  beneath 
Mrs.  Pierce's  hospitable  roof,  the  girl,  after  lin- 
gering awhile,  and  going  often  to  that  nook  in 
the  hill  by  Riverside,  took  her  departure.  She 
was  restless,  yet  clung  to  the  neighborhood.  It 
was  with  a  wrench  that  she  fixed  her  going  when 
I  told  her  of  my  own  journey  back  to  the  railroad. 
In  Buffalo  she  walked  to  the  court-house  and  stood 
a  moment  as  if  bidding  this  site  of  one  life-mem- 
ory farewell,  and  from  the  stage  she  watched  and 
watched  the  receding  town  and  mountains.  "  It's 
awful  to  be  leaving  him  !"  she  said.  "  Excuse  me 
for  acting  so  in  front  of  you."  With  the  poig- 
nant emptiness  overcoming  her  in  new  guise,  she 
blamed  herself  for  not  waiting  in  Illinois  until  he 
had  been  sent  to  Joliet,  for  then,  so  near  home,  he 
must  have  gone  with  her. 

How  could  I  tell  her  that  Nate's  death  was  the 
best  end  that  could  have  come  to  him?  But  I 
said :  "  You  know  you  don't  think  it  was  your 
fault.  You  know  you  would  do  the  same  again." 
She  listened  to  me,  but  her  eyes  had  no  interest 
in  them.  "  He  never  knew  pain,"  I  pursued,  "  and 
he  died  doing  the  thing  he  liked  best  in  the  world. 
He  was  happy  and  enjoying  himself,  and  you  gave 
him  that.  It's  bad  only  for  you.  Some  would 
talk  religion,  but  I  can't." 


SEPARS   VIGILANTE  195 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  I  can  think  of  him  so 
glad  to  be  free.  Thank  you  for  saying  that 
about  religion.  Do  you  think  it's  wicked  not  to 
want  it — to  hate  it  sometimes?  I  hope  it's  not. 
Thank  you,  truly." 

During  our  journey  she  summoned  her  cheer- 
fulness, and  all  that  she  said  was  wholesome. 
In  the  robust,  coarse  soundness  of  her  fibre,  the 
wounds  of  grief  would  heal  and  leave  no  sick- 
ness— perhaps  no  higher  sensitiveness  to  human 
sufferings  than  her  broad  native  kindness  already 
held.  We  touched  upon  religion  again,  and  my 
views  shocked  her  Kentucky  notions,  for  I  told 
her  Kentucky  locked  its  religion  in  an  iron  cage 
called  Sunday,  which  made  it  very  savage  and 
fond  of  biting  strangers.  Now  and  again  I  would 
run  upon  that  vein  of  deep-seated  prejudice  that 
was  in  her  character  like  some  fine  wire.  In 
short,  our  disagreements  brought  us  to  terms 
more  familiar  than  we  had  reached  hitherto.  But 
when  at  last  Separ  came,  where  was  I?  There 
stood  Mr.  McLean  waiting,  and  at  the  sudden- 
ness of  him  she  had  no  time  to  remember  her- 
self, but  stepped  out  of  the  stage  with  such  a 
smile  that  the  ardent  cow-puncher  flushed  and 
beamed. 

"  So  I  went  away  without  telling  you  good- 
bye !"  he  began,  not  wisely.  "  Mrs.  Pierce  has 
been  circulating  war  talk  about  me,  you  bet !" 

The  maiden  in  Jessamine  spoke  instantly.  "  In- 
deed? There  was  no  special  obligation  for  you 
to  call  on  me,  or  her  to  notice  if  you  didn't." 

"  Oh  !"  said  Lin,  crestfallen.  "  Yu'  sure  don't 
mean  that?" 


196  LIN  MCLEAN 

She  looked  at  him,  and  was  compelled  to  melt. 
"No,  neighbor,  I  don't  mean  it." 

"  Neighbor  !"  he  exclaimed  ;  and  again,  "  Neigh- 
bor," much  pleased.  "  Now  it  would  sound  kind 
o'  pleasant  if  you'd  call  me  that  for  a  steady 
thing." 

"  It  would  sound  kind  of  odd,  Mr.  McLean, 
thank  you." 

"  Blamed  if  I  understand  her,"  cried  Lin. 
"Blamed  if  I  do.  But  you're  going  to  under- 
stand me  sure  quick  !"  He  rushed  inside  the  sta- 
tion, spoke  sharply  to  the  agent,  and  returned  in 
the  same  tremor  of  elation  that  had  pushed  him 
to  forwardness  with  his  girl,  and  with  which  he 
seemed  near  bursting.  "  I've  been  here  three 
days  to  meet  you.  There's  a  letter,  and  I  expect 
I  know  what's  in  it.  Tubercle  has  got  it  here." 
He  took  it  from  the  less  hasty  agent  and  thrust 
it  in  Jessamine's  hand.  "  You  needn't  to  fear. 
Please  open  it ;  it's  good  news  this  time,  you 
bet !"  He  watched  it  in  her  hand  as  the  boy  of 
eight  watches  the  string  of  a  Christmas  parcel  he 
wishes  his  father  would  cut  instead  of  so  carefully 
untie.  "  Open  it,"  he  urged  again.  "  Keeping  me 
waiting  this  way  !" 

"  What  in  the  world  does  all  this  mean  ?"  cried 
Jessamine,  stopping  short  at  the  first  sentence. 

"  Read,"  said  Lin. 

"  You've  done  this  !"  she  exclaimed. 

"Read,  read!" 

So  she  read,  with  big  eyes.  It  was  an  official  let- 
ter of  the  railroad,  written  by  the  division  super- 
intendent at  Edgeford.  It  hoped  Miss  Buckner 
might  feel  like  taking  the  position  of  agent  at  Se- 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  197 

par.  If  she  was  willing  to  consider  this,  would  she 
stop  over  at  Edgeford,  on  her  way  east,  and  talk 
with  the  superintendent?  In  case  the  duties 
were  more  than  she  had  been  accustomed  to  on 
the  Louisville  and  Nashville,  she  could  continue 
east  with  the  loss  of  only  a  day.  The  superin- 
tendent believed  the  salary  could  be  arranged 
satisfactorily.  Enclosed  please  to  find  an  order 
for  a  free  ride  to  Edgeford. 

Jessamine  turned  her  wondering  eyes  on  Lin. 
"  You  did  do  this,"  she  repeated,  but  this  time 
with  extraordinary  quietness. 

"  Yes,"  said  he.    "  And  I  am  plumb  proud  of  it." 

She  gave  a  rich  laugh  of  pleasure  and  amuse- 
ment ;  a  long  laugh,  and  stopped.  "  Did  anybody 
ever !"  she  said. 

"We  can  call  each  other  neighbors  now,  yu' 
see,"  said  the  cow-puncher. 

"  Oh  no  !  oh  no  !"  Jessamine  declared.  "  Though 
how  am  I  ever  to  thank  you  ?" 

"  By  not  argufying,"  Lin  answered. 

"  Oh  no,  no  !  I  can  do  no  such  thing.  Don't 
you  see  I  can't?  I  believe  you  are  crazy." 

"  I've  been  waiting  to  hear  yu'  say  that,"  said 
the  complacent  McLean.  "I'm  not  argufying. 
We'll  eat  supper  now.  The  east-bound  is  due 
in  an  hour,  and  I  expect  you'll  be  wanting  to  go 
on  it." 

"  And  I  expect  I'll  go,  too,"  said  the  girl. 

"  I'll  be  plumb  proud  to  have  yu',"  the  cow- 
puncher  assented. 

"  I'm  going  to  get  my  ticket  to  Chicago  right 
now,"  said  Jessamine,  again  laughing,  sunny  and 
defiant. 


198  LIN  MCLEAN 

"You  bet  you  are!"  said  the  incorrigible  Mc- 
Lean. He  let  her  go  into  the  station  serenely. 
"You  can't  get  used  to  new  ideas  in  a  minute," 
he  remarked  to  me.  "  I've  figured  on  all  that,  of 
course.  But  that's  why,"  he  broke  out,  impetu- 
ously, "  I  quit  you  on  Bear  Creek  so  sudden. 
*  When  she  goes  back  away  home,'  I'd  been  say- 
ing to  myself  every  day,  '  what  '11  you  do  then, 
Lin  McLean  ?'  Well,  I  knew  I'd  go  to  Kentucky 
too.  Just  knew  I'd  have  to,  yu'  see,  and  it  was 
inconvenient,  turruble  inconvenient  —  Billy  here 
and  my  ranch,  and  the  beef  round-up  comin' — 
but  how  could  I  let  her  go  and  forget  me  ?  Take 
up,  maybe,  with  some  Blue-grass  son-of-a-gun 
back  there?  And  I  hated  the  fix  I  was  in  till 
that  morning,  getting  up,  I  was  joshin'  the  Vir- 
ginia man  that's  after  Miss  Wood,  I'd  been  say- 
in'  no  educated  lady  would  think  of  a  man  who 
talked  with  an  African  accent.  '  It's  repo'ted 
you  have  a  Southern  rival  yourself,'  says  he, 
joshin'  back.  So  I  said  I  guessed  the  rival  would 
find  life  uneasy.  *  He  does,'  says  he.  4  Any  man 
with  his  voice  broke  in  two  halves,  and  one  down 
in  his  stomach  and  one  up  among  the  angels,  is 
goin'  to  feel  uneasy.  But  Texas  talks  a  heap 
about  his  lady  vigilante  in  the  freight-car.'  *  Vigi- 
lante !'  I  said  ;  and  I  must  have  jumped,  for  they 
all  asked  where  the  lightning  had  struck.  And 
in  fifteen  minutes  after  writing  you  I'd  hit  the 
trail  for  Separ.  Oh,  I  figured  things  out  on  that 
ride !"  (Mr.  McLean  here  clapped  me  on  the 
back.)  "Got  to  Separ.  Got  the  sheriff's  address 
— the  sheriff  that  saw  her  that  night  they  held  up 
the  locomotive.  Got  him  to  meet  me  at  Edgeford 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  199 

and  make  a  big  talk  to  the  superintendent.  Made 
a  big  talk  myself.  I  said,  *  Put  that  girl  in  charge 
of  Separ,  and  the  boys  '11  quit  shooting  your 
water-tank.  But  Tubercle  can't  influence  'em.' 
*  Tubercle  ?'  says  the  superintendent.  *  What's 
that  ?'  And  when  I  told  him  it  was  the  agent,  he 
flapped  his  two  hands  down  on  the  chair  arms 
each  side  of  him  and  went  to  rockin'  up  and  down. 
I  said  the  agent  was  just  a  temptation  to  the 
boys  to  be  gay  right  along,  and  they'd  keep  a- 
shooting.  'You  can  choose  between  Tubercle 
and  your  tank,'  I  said ;  *  but  you've  got  to  move 
one  of  'em  from  Separ  if  yu'  want  peace.'  The 
sheriff  backed  me  up  good,  too.  He  said  a  man 
couldn't  do  much  with  Separ  the  way  it  was  now  ; 
but  a  decent  woman  would  be  respected  there, 
and  the  only  question  was  if  she  could  conduct 
the  business.  So  I  spoke  up  about  Shawhan,  and 
when  the  whole  idea  began  to  soak  into  that  su- 
perintendent his  eyeballs  jingled  and  he  looked 
as  wise  as  a  work-ox.  *  I'll  see  her,'  says  he.  And 
he's  going  to  see  her." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  you  deserve  success  after  think- 
ing of  a  thing  like  that !  You're  wholly  wasted 
punching  cattle.  But  she's  going  to  Chicago.  By 
eleven  o'clock  she  will  have  passed  by  your  su- 
perintendent." 

"Why,  so  she  will!"  said  Lin,  affecting  sur- 
prise. 

He  baffled  me,  and  he  baffled  Jessamine.  In- 
deed, his  eagerness  with  her  parcels,  his  assist- 
ance in  checking  her  trunk,  his  cheerful  exam- 
ination of  check  and  ticket  to  be  sure  they  read 
over  the  same  route,  plainly  failed  to  gratify  her. 


200  LIN  MCLEAN 

Her  firmness  about  going  was  sincere,  but  she 
had  looked  for  more  dissuasion  ;  and  this  spright- 
ly abettal  of  her  departure  seemed  to  leave  some- 
thing vacant  in  the  ceremonies.  She  fell  singu- 
larly taciturn  during  supper  at  the  Hotel  Bruns- 
wick, and  presently  observed, 

"  I  hope  I  shall  see  Mr.  Donohoe." 

" Texas?"  said  Lin.  "I  expect  they'll  have 
tucked  him  in  bed  by  now  up  at  the  ranch.  The 
little  fellow  is  growing  yet." 

"  He  can  walk  round  a  freight-car  all  night," 
said  Miss  Buckner,  stoutly.  "  I've  always  wanted 
to  thank  him  for  looking  after  me." 

Mr.  McLean  smiled  elaborately  at  his  plate. 

''Well,  if  he's  not  actually  thinking  he'll  tease 
me !"  cried  out  Jessamine,  "  Though  he  claims 
not  to  be  foolish  like  Mr.  Donohoe.  Why,  Mr. 
McLean,  you  surely  must  have  been  young  once  ! 
See  if  you  can't  remember  !" 

"  Shucks  !"  began  Lin. 

But  her  laughter  routed  him.  "  Maybe  you 
didn't  notice  you  were  young,"  she  said.  u  But 
don't  you  reckon  perhaps  the  men  around  did? 
Why,  maybe  even  the  girls  kind  o'  did  !" 

"She's  hard  to  beat,  ain't  she?"  inquired  Lin, 
admiringly,  of  me. 

In  my  opinion  she  was.  She  had  her  wish,  too, 
about  Texas ;  for  we  found  him  waiting  on  the 
railroad  platform,  dressed  in  his  best,  to  say 
good-bye.  The  friendly  things  she  told  him  left 
him  shuffling  and  repeating  that  it  was  a  mis- 
take to  go,  a  big  mistake  ;  but  when  she  said  the 
butter  was  not  good  enough,  his  laugh  cracked 
joyously  up  into  the  treble.  The  train's  arrival 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  2OI 

brought  quick  sadness  to  her  face,  but  she  made 
herself  bright  again  with  a  special  farewell  for 
each  acquaintance. 

"  Don't  you  ride  any  more  cow-catchers,"  she 
warned  Billy  Lusk,  "or  I'll  have  to  come  back 
and  look  after  you." 

"  You  said  you  and  me  were  going  for  a  ride, 
and  we  ain't,"  shouted  the  long-memoried  nine- 
year-old. 

"  You  will,"  murmured  Mr.  McLean,  oracularly. 

As  the  train's  pace  quickened  he  did  not  step 
off,  and  Miss  Buckner  cried  "Jump  !" 

"Too  late,"  said  he,  placidly.  Then  he  called 
to  me,  "  I'm  hard  to  beat,  too  !"  So  the  train 
took  them  both  away,  as  I  might  have  guessed 
was  his  intention  all  along. 

"  Is  that  marriage  again  ?"  said  Billy,  anxiously. 
"  He  wouldn't  tell  me  nothing." 

"  He's  just  seeing  Miss  Buckner  as  far  as  Edge- 
ford,"  said  the  agent.  "  Be  back  to-morrow." 

"  Then  I  don't  see  why  he  wouldn't  take  me 
along,"  Billy  complained.  And  Separ  laughed. 

But  the  lover  was  not  back  to  -  morrow,  He 
was  capable  of  anything,  gossip  remarked,  and 
took  up  new  themes.  The  sun  rose  and  set,  the 
two  trains  made  their  daily  slight  event  and  gath- 
ering ;  the  water-tank,  glaring  bulkily  in  the  sun, 
beaconed  unmolested  ;  and  the  agent's  natural 
sleep  was  unbroken  by  pistols,  for  the  cow-boys 
did  not  happen  to  be  in  town.  Separ  lay  a  clot 
of  torpor  that  I  was  glad  to  leave  behind  me 
for  a  while.  But  news  is  a  strange,  permeating 
substance,  and  it  began  to  be  sifted  through  the 
air  that  Tubercle  was  going  to  God's  country. 


202  LIN  MCLEAN 

That  is  how  they  phrased  it  in  cow-camp,  mean- 
ing not  the  next  world,  but  the  Eastern  States. 

"  It's  certainly  a  shame  him  leaving  after  we've 
got  him  so  good  and  used  to  us,"  said  the  Vir- 
ginian. 

"  We  can't  tell  him  good-bye,"  said  Honey  Wig- 
gin.  ''Separ  '11  be  slow." 

"  We  can  give  his  successor  a  right  hearty  wel- 
come," the  Virginian  suggested. 

" That's  you!"  said  Honey.  "Schemin'  mis- 
chief away  ahead.  You're  the  leadin'  devil  in 
this  country,  and  just  because  yu'  wear  a  faith- 
ful -  looking  face  you're  tryin'  to  fool  a  poor 
school-marm." 

"  Yes,"  drawled  the  Southerner,  "  that's  what 
I'm  aiming  to  do." 

So  now  they  were  curious  about  the  successor, 
planning  their  hearty  welcome  for  that  official, 
and  were  encouraged  in  this  by  Mr.  McLean. 
He  reappeared  in  the  neighborhood  with  a  man- 
ner and  conversation  highly  casual. 

"  Bring  your  new  wife  ?"  they  inquired. 

u  No  ;  she  preferred  Kentucky,"  Lin  said. 

"  Bring  the  old  one  ?" 

"  No  ;  she  preferred  Laramie." 

"  Kentucky's  a  right  smart  way  to  chase  after 
a  girl,"  said  the  Virginian. 

"  Sure  !"  said  Mr.  McLean.  u  I  quit  at  Edge- 
ford." 

He  met  their  few  remarks  so  smoothly  that 
they  got  no  joy  from  him  ;  and  being  asked  had 
he  seen  the  new  agent,  he  answered  yes,  that 
Tubercle  had  gone  Wednesday,  and  his  successor 
did  not  seem  to  be  much  of  a  man. 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  203 

But  to  me  Lin  had  nothing  to  say  until  noon 
camp  was  scattering  from  its  lunch  to  work, 
when  he  passed  close,  and  whispered,  "You'll 
see  her  to-morrow  if  you  go  in  with  the  outfit." 
Then,  looking  round  to  make  sure  we  were  alone 
in  the  sage-brush,  he  drew  from  his  pocket,  cher- 
ishingly,  a  little  shining  pistol.  "  Hers,"  said  he, 
simply. 

I  looked  at  him. 

"  We've  exchanged,"  he  said. 

He  turned  the  token  in  his  hand,  caressing  it 
as  on  that  first  night  when  Jessamine  had  taken 
his  heart  captive. 

"  My  idea,"  he  added,  unable  to  lift  his  eyes 
from  the  treasure.  "  See  this,  too." 

I  looked,  and  there  was  the  word  "  Neighbor  " 
engraved  on  it. 

"  Her  idea,"  said  he. 

"A  good  one  !"  I  murmured. 

"  It's  on  both,  yu'  know.  We  had  it  put  on  the 
day  she  settled  to  accept  the  superintendent's 
proposition."  Here  Lin  fired  his  small  exchanged 
weapon  at  a  cotton-wood,  striking  low.  "  She  can 
beat  that  with  mine  !"  he  exclaimed,  proud  and 
tender.  "  She  took  four  days  deciding  at  Edge- 
ford,  and  I  learned  her  to  hit  the  ace  of  clubs." 
He  showed  me  the  cards  they  had  practised  upon 
during  those  four  days  of  indecision  ;  he  had 
them  in  a  book  as  if  they  were  pressed  flowers. 
"  They  won't  get  crumpled  that  way,"  said  he ; 
and  he  further  showed  me  a  tintype.  "  She's  got 
the  other  at  Separ,"  he  finished. 

I  shook  his  hand  with  all  my  might.  Yes,  he 
was  worthy  of  her  !  Yes,  he  deserved  this  smooth 


204  LIN  MCLEAN 

course  his  love  was  running  !  And  I  shook  his 
hand  again,  To  tonic  her  grief.  Jessamine  had 
longed  for  some  activity,  some  work,  and  he  had 
shown  her  Wyoming  might  hold  this  for  her  as 
well  as  Kentucky.  "  But  how  in  the  world,"  I 
asked  him,  "  did  you  persuade  her  to  stop  over 
at  Edgeford  at  all  ?" 

"Yu'  mustn't  forget,"  said  the  lover  (and  he 
blushed),  "that  I  had  her  four  hours  alone  on 
the  train." 

But  his  face  that  evening  round  the  fire,  when 
they  talked  of  their  next  day's  welcome  to  the 
new  agent,  became  comedy  of  the  highest ;  arid 
he  was  so  desperately  canny  in  the  moments  he 
chose  for  silence  or  for  comment !  He  had  not 
been  sure  of  their  ignorance  until  he  arrived, 
and  it  was  a  joke  with  him  too  deep  for  laughter. 
He  had  a  special  eye  upon  the  Virginian,  his 
mate  in  such  a  tale  of  mischiefs,  and  now  he  led 
him  on.  He  suggested  to  the  Southerner  that 
caution  might  be  wise  ;  this  change  at  Separ  was 
perhaps  some  new  trick  of  the  company's. 

"We  mostly  take  their  tricks,"  observed  the 
Virginian. 

"Yes,"  said  Lin,  nodding  sagely  at  the  fire, 
"that's  so,  too." 

Yet  not  he,  not  any  one,  could  have  foreseen 
the  mortifying  harmlessness  of  the  outcome. 
They  swept  down  upon  Separ  like  all  the  hordes 
of  legend  —  more  egregiously,  perhaps,  because 
they  were  play  -  acting,  and  no  serious  horde 
would  go  on  so.  Our  final  hundred  yards  of 
speed  and  copious  howling  brought  all  dwellers 
in  Separ  out  to  gaze  and  disappear  like  rabbits — 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  205 

all  save  the  new  agent  in  the  station.  Nobody 
ran  out  or  in  there,  and  the  horde  whirled  up  to 
the  tiny,  defenceless  building  and  leaped  to  earth 
— except  Lin  and  me ;  we  sat  watching.  The  in- 
nocent door  stood  open  wide  to  any  cool  breeze 
or  invasion,  and  Honey  Wiggin  tramped  in  fore- 
most, hat  lowering  over  eyes  and  pistol  promi- 
nent. He  stopped  rooted,  staring,  and  his  mouth 
came  open  slowly  ;  his  hand  went  feeling  up  for 
his  hat,  and  came  down  with  it  by  degrees  as  by 
degrees  his  grin  spread.  Then  in  a  milky  voice,  he 
said  :  "Why,  excuse  me,  ma'am  !  Good-morning." 

There  answered  a  clear,  long,  rippling,  am- 
ple laugh.  It  came  out  of  the  open  door  into 
the  heat ;  it  made  the  sun  -  baked  air  merry  ;  it 
seemed  to  welcome  and  mock ;  it  genially  hov- 
ered about  us  in  the  dusty  quiet  of  Separ ;  for 
there  was  no  other  sound  anywhere  at  all  in  the 
place,  and  the  great  plain  stretched  away  silent 
all  round  it.  The  bulging  water-tank  shone  over- 
head in  bland,  ironic  safety. 

The  horde  stood  blank ;  then  it  shifted  its 
legs,  looked  sideways  at  itself,  and  in  a  hesitat- 
ing clump  reached  the  door,  shambled  in,  and  re- 
moved its  foolish  hat. 

"  Good  -  morning,  gentlemen,"  said  Jessamine 
Buckner,  seated  behind  her  railing ;  and  various 
voices  endeavored  to  reply  conventionally. 

"  If  you  have  any  letters,  ma'am,"  said  the  Vir- 
ginian, more  inventive,  "  I'll  take  them.  Letters 
for  Judge  Henry's."  He  knew  the  judge's  office 
was  seventy  miles  from  here. 

"  Any  for  the  C.  Y.  ?"  muttered  another,  like- 
wise knowing  better. 


206  LIN  MCLEAN 

It  was  a  happy,  if  simple,  thought,  and  most 
of  them  inquired  for  the  mail.  Jessamine  sought 
carefully,  making  them  repeat  their  names,  which 
some  did  guiltily  :  they  foresaw  how  soon  the  lady 
would  find  out  no  letters  ever  came  for  these 
names  ! 

There  was  no  letter  for  any  one  present. 

"  I'm  sorry,  truly,"  said  Jessamine  behind  the 
railing.  "  For  you  seemed  real  anxious  to  get 
news.  Better  luck  next  time  !  And  if  I  make 
mistakes,  please  everybody  set  me  straight,  for 
of  course  I  don't  understand  things  yet." 

"Yes,  m'm." 

"Good-day,  m'm." 

"Thank  yu',  m'm." 

They  got  themselves  out  of  the  station  and 
into  their  saddles. 

"  No,  she  don't  understand  things  yet,"  solilo- 
quized the  Virginian.  "  Oh  dear,  no."  He  turned 
his  slow,  dark  eyes  upon  us.  "  You  Lin  McLean," 
said  he,  in  his  gentle  voice,  "you  have  cert'nly 
fooled  me  plumb  through  this  mawnin'." 

Then  the  horde  rode  out  of  town,  chastened 
and  orderly  till  it  was  quite  small  across  the  sage- 
brush, when  reaction  seized  it.  It  sped  suddenly 
and  vanished  in  dust  with  far,  hilarious  cries  ; 
and  here  were  Lin  and  I,  and  here  towered  the 
water-tank,  shining  and  shining. 

Thus  did  Separ's  vigilante  take  possession  and 
vindicate  Lin's  knowledge  of  his  kind.  It  was  not 
three  days  until  the  Virginian,  that  lynx  observer, 
fixed  his  grave  eyes  upon  McLean,  "  '  Neighbor ' 
is  as  cute  a  name  for  a  six-shooter  as  ever  I 
heard,"  said  he.  "  But  she'll  never  have  need  of 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  207 

your  gun  in  Separ — only  to  shoot  up  peaceful  play- 
in'-cyards  while  she  hearkens  to  your  courtin'." 

That  was  his  way  of  congratulation  to  a  broth- 
er lover.  "  Plumb  strange,"  he  said  to  me  one 
morning  after  an  hour  of  riding  in  silence,  "  how 
a  man  will  win  two  women  while  another  man 
gets  aged  waitin'  for  one." 

"  Your  hair  seems  black  as  ever,"  said  I. 

"  My  hopes  ain't  so  glossy  any  more,"  he  an- 
swered. "  Lin  has  done  better  this  second  trip." 

"  Mrs.  Lusk  don't  count,"  said  I. 

"  I  reckon  she  counted  mighty  plentiful  when 
he  thought  he'd  got  her  clamped  to  him  by  law- 
ful marriage.  But  Lin's  lucky."  And  the  Vir- 
ginian fell  silent  again. 

Lucky  Lin  bestirred  him  over  his  work,  his 
plans,  his  ranch  on  Box  Elder  that  was  one  day 
to  be  a  home  for  his  lady.  He  came  and  went, 
seeing  his  idea  triumph  and  his  girl  respected. 
Not  only  was  she  a  girl,  but  a  good  shot  too. 
And  as  if  she  and  her  small,  neat  home  were  a 
sort  of  possession,  the  cow-punchers  would  boast 
of  her  to  strangers.  They  would  have  dealt  heav- 
ily now  with  the  wretch  who  should  trifle  with 
the  water-tank.  When  camp  came  within,  visiting 
distance,  you  would  see  one  or  another  shaving 
and  parting  his  hair.  They  wrote  unnecessary 
letters,  and  brought  them  to  mail  as  excuses  for 
an  afternoon  call.  Honey  Wiggin,  more  original, 
would  look  in  the  door  with  his  grin,  and  hold 
up  an  ace  of  clubs.  "  I  thought  maybe  yu'  could 
spare  a  minute  for  a  shootin'-match,"  he  would 
insinuate  ;  and  Separ  now  heard  no  more  objec- 
tionable shooting  than  this.  Texas  brought  her 


208  LIN  MCLEAN 

presents  of  game — antelope,  sage-chickens — but, 
shyness  intervening,  he  left  them  outside  the 
door,  and  entering,  dressed  in  all  the  "  Sunday  " 
that  he  had,  would  sit  dumbly  in  the  lady's  pres- 
ence. I  remember  his  emerging  from  one  of 
these  placid  interviews  straight  into  the  hands 
of  his  tormentors. 

"  If  she  don't  notice  your  clothes,  Texas,"  said 
the  Virginian,  4i  just  mention  them  to  her." 

"  Now  yer've  done  offended  her,"  shrilled  Ma- 
nassas  Donohoe.  "  She  heard  that." 

"  She'll  hear  you  singin'  sooprano,"  said  Honey 
Wiggin.  "  It's  good  this  country  has  reformed, 
or  they'd  have  you  warblin'  in  some  dance-hall 
and  corrupt  your  morals." 

"You  sca'cely  can  corrupt  the  morals  of  a  so- 
prano man,"  observed  the  Virginian.  "  Go  and 
play  with  Billy  till  you  can  talk  bass." 

But  it  was  the  boldest  adults  that  Billy  chose 
for  playmates.  Texas  he  found  immature.  More- 
over, when  next  he  came,  he  desired  play  with  no 
one.  Summer  was  done.  September's  full  moon 
was  several  nights  ago  ;  he  had  gone  on  his  hunt 
with  Lin,  and  now  spelling-books  were  at  hand. 
But  more  than  this  clouded  his  mind  ;  he  had 
been  brought  to  say  good-bye  to  Jessamine  Buck- 
ner,  who  had  scarcely  seen  him,  and  to  give  her 
a  wolverene-skin,  a  hunting  trophy.  "  She  can 
have  it,"  he  told  me.  "  I  like  her."  Then  he  stole 
a  look  at  his  guardian.  "  If  they  get  married  and 
send  me  back  to  mother,"  said  he,  "  I'll  run  away 
sure."  So  school  and  this  old  dread  haunted  the 
child,  while  for  the  man,  Lin  the  lucky,  who  sus- 
pected nothing  of  it,  time  was  ever  bringing  love 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  209 

nearer  to  his  hearth.  His  Jessamine  had  visited 
Box  Elder,  and  even  said  she  wanted  chickens 
there  ;  since  when  Mr.  McLean  might  occasion- 
ally have  been  seen  at  his  cabin,  worrying  over 
barn-yard  fowls,  feeding  and  cursing  them  with 
equal  care.  Spring  would  see  him  married,  he 
told  me. 

"This  time  right!"  he  exclaimed.  "And  I 
want  her  to  know  Billy  some  more  before  he 
goes  to  Bear  Creek." 

"  Ah,  Bear  Creek  !"  said  Billy,  acidly.  "  Why 
can't  I  stay  home  ?" 

"  Home  sounds  kind  o'  slick,"  said  Lin  to  me. 
"  Don't  it,  now  ?  '  Home '  is  closer  than  *  neigh- 
bor/ you  bet !  Billy,  put  the  horses  in  the  corral, 
and  ask  Miss  Buckner  if  we  can  come  and  see  her 
after  supper.  If  you're  good,  maybe  she'll  take 
yu'  for  a  ride  to-morrow.  And,  kid,  ask  her  about 
Laramie." 

Again  suspicion  quivered  over  Billy's  face,  and 
he  dragged  his  horses  angrily  to  the  corral. 

Lin  nudged  me,  laughing.  "  I  can  rile  him  every 
time  about  Laramie,"  said  he,  affectionately.  "  I 
wouldn't  have  believed  the  kid  set  so  much  store 
by  me.  Nor  I  didn't  need  to  ask  Jessamine  to 
love  him  for  my  sake.  What  do  yu'  suppose? 
Before  I'd  got  far  as  thinking  of  Billy  at  all — 
right  after  Edgeford,  when  my  head  was  just  a 
whirl  of  joy  —  Jessamine  says  to  me  one  day, 
*  Read  that.'  It  was  Governor  Barker  writin'  to 
her  about  her  brother  and  her  sorrow."  Lin 
paused.  "  And  about  me.  I  can't  never  tell  you 
— but  he  said  a  heap  I  didn't  deserve.  And  he 
told  her  about  me  picking  up  Billy  in  Denver 
14 


210  LIN  MCLEAN 

streets  that  time,  and  doing  for  him  because  his 
own  home  was  not  a  good  one.  Governor  Barker 
wrote  Jessamine  all  that ;  and  she  said,  *  Why  did 
you  never  tell  me  ?'  And  I  said  it  wasn't  any- 
thing to  tell.  And  she  just  said  to  me,  *  It  shall 
be  as  if  he  was  your  son  and  I  was  his  mother.' 
And  that's  the  first  regular  kiss  she  ever  gave 
me  I  didn't  have  to  take  myself.  God  bless  her  ! 
God  bless  her  !" 

As  we  ate  our  supper,  young  Billy  burst  out  of 
brooding  silence  :  "  I  didn't  ask  her  about  Lara- 
mie.  So  there  !" 

"  Well,  well,  kid,"  said  the  cow-puncher,  patting 
his  head,  "  yu'  needn't  to,  I  guess." 

But  Billy's  eye  remained  sullen  and  jealous. 
He  paid  slight  attention  to  the  picture-book  of 
soldiers  and  war  that  Jessamine  gave  him  when 
we  went  over  to  the  station.  She  had  her  own 
books,  some  flowers  in  pots,  a  rocking-chair,  and 
a  cosey  lamp  that  shone  on  her  bright  face  and 
dark  dress.  We  drew  stools  from  the  office  desks, 
and  Billy  perched  silently  on  one. 

"  Scanty  room  for  company  !"  Jessamine  said. 
"  But  we  must  make  out  this  way — till  we  have 
another  way."  She  smiled  on  Lin,  and  Billy's  face 
darkened.  "  Do  you  know,"  she  pursued  to  me, 
"  with  all  those  chickens  Mr.  McLean  tells  me 
about,  never  a  one  has  he  thought  to  bring  here." 

"  Livin'  or  dead  do  you  want  'em  ?"  inquired 
Lin. 

"  Oh,  I'll  not  bother  you.  Mr.  Donohoe  says  he 
will— " 

"  Texas  ?  Chickens  ?  Him  ?  Then  he'll  have 
to  steal  'em  !"  And  we  all  laughed  together. 


SEPAR  S   VIGILANTE  211 

u  You  won't  make  me  go  back  to  Laramie,  will 
you?"  spoke  Billy,  suddenly,  from  his  stool. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  anybody  try  to  make  you  ?"  ex- 
claimed Jessamine.  "  Who  says  any  such  thing  ?" 

"  Lin  did,"  said  Billy, 

Jessamine  looked  at  her  lover  reproachfully. 
"  What  a  way  to  tease  him  !"  she  said.  "  And 
you  so  kind.  Why,  you've  hurt  his  feelings  !" 

"  I  never  thought,"  said  Lin  the  boisterous.  "  I 
wouldn't  have." 

"  Come  sit  here,  Billy,"  said  Jessamine.  "  When- 
ever he  teases,  you  tell  me,  and  we'll  make  him 
behave." 

"  Honest  ?"  persisted  Billy. 

"  Shake  hands  on  it,"  said  Jessamine. 

"  'Cause  I'll  go  to  school.  But  I  won't  go  back 
to  Laramie  for  no  one.  And  you're  a-going  to 
be  Lin's  wife,  honest  ?" 

"  Honest !  Honest !"  And  Jessamine,  laugh- 
ing, grew  red  beside  her  lamp. 

"Then  I  guess  mother  can't  never  come  back 
to  Lin,  either,"  stated  Billy,  relieved. 

Jessamine  let  fall  the  child's  hand. 

"'Cause  she  liked  him  onced,  and  he  liked 
her." 

Jessamine  gazed  at  Lin. 

"  It's  simple,"  said  the  cow-puncher.  "  It's  all 
right." 

But  Jessamine  sat  by  her  lamp,  very  pale. 

"  It's  all  right,"  repeated  Lin  in  the  silence, 
shifting  his  foot  and  looking  down.  "Once  I 
made  a  fool  of  myself.  Worse  than  usual." 

"Billy?"  whispered  Jessamine.  "Then  you — 
But  his  name  is  Lusk  !" 


2i2  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Course  it  is,"  said  Billy.  "  Father  and  moth- 
er are  living  in  Laramie." 

"  It's  all  straight,"  said  the  cow-puncher.  "  I 
never  saw  her  till  three  years  ago.  I  haven't 
anything  to  hide,  only — only — only  it  don't  come 
easy  to  tell." 

I  rose.  "  Miss  Buckner,"  said  I,  "  he  will  tell 
you.  But  he  will  not  tell  you  he  paid  dearly  for 
what  was  no  fault  of  his.  It  has  been  no  secret. 
It  is  only  something  his  friends  and  his  enemies 
have  forgotten." 

But  all  the  while  I  was  speaking  this,  Jessa- 
mine's eyes  were  fixed  on  Lin,  and  her  face  re- 
mained white. 

I  left  the  girl  and  the  man  and  the  little  boy 
together,  and  crossed  to  the  hotel.  But  its  air 
was  foul,  and  I  got  my  roll  of  camp  blankets  to 
sleep  in  the  clean  night,  if  sleeping-time  should 
come ;  meanwhile  I  walked  about  in  the  silence. 
To  have  taken  a  wife  once  in  good  faith,  ignorant 
she  was  another's,  left  no  stain,  raised  no  barrier. 
I  could  have  told  Jessamine  the  same  old  story 
myself — or  almost ;  but  what  had  it  to  do  with 
her  at  all?  Why  need  she  know?  Reasoning 
thus,  yet  with  something  left  uncleared  by  reason 
that  I  could  not  state,  I  watched  the  moon  edge 
into  sight,  heavy  and  rich-hued,  a  melon-slice  of 
glow,  seemingly  near,  like  a  great  lantern  tilted 
over  the  plain.  The  smell  of  the  sage-brush  fla- 
vored the  air  ;  the  hush  of  Wyoming  folded  dis- 
tant and  near  things  ;  and  all  Separ  but  those 
three  inside  the  lighted  window  were  in  bed. 
Dark  windows  were  everywhere  else,  and  looming 
above  rose  the  water-tank,  a  dull  mass  in  the 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  213 

night,  and  forever  somehow  to  me  a  Sphinx  em- 
blem, the  vision  I  instantly  see  when  I  think  of 
Separ.  Soon  I  heard  a  door  creaking.  It  was 
Billy,  coming  alone,  and  on  seeing  me  he  walked 
up  and  spoke  in  a  half-awed  voice. 

"  She's  a-crying,"  said  he. 

I  withheld  from  questions,  and  as  he  kept 
along  by  my  side  he  said  :  "  I'm  sorry.  Do  you 
think  she's  mad  with  Lin  for  what  he's  told  her  ? 
She  just  sat,  and  when  she  started  crying  he 
made  me  go  away." 

"  I  don't  believe  she's  mad,"  I  told  Billy;  and  I 
sat  down  on  my  blanket,  he  beside  me,  talking 
while  the  moon  grew  small  as  it  rose  over  the 
plain,  and  the  light  steadily  shone  in  Jessamine's 
window.  Soon  young  Billy  fell  asleep,  and  I 
looked  at  him,  thinking  how  in  a  way  it  was  he 
who  had  brought  this  trouble  on  the  man  who 
had  saved  him  and  loved  him.  But  that  man 
had  no  such  untender  thoughts.  Once  more  the 
door  opened,  and  it  was  he  who  came  this  time, 
alone  also.  She  did  not  follow  him  and  stand  to 
watch  him  from  the  threshold,  though  he  forgot 
to  close  the  door,  and,  coming  over  to  me,  stood 
looking  down. 

"  What  ?"  I  said  at  length. 

I  don't  know  that  he  heard  me.  He  stooped 
over  Billy  and  shook  him  gently.  "  Wake,  son," 
said  he.  "You  and  I  must  get  to  our  camp 
now." 

"  Now  ?"  said  Billy.  "  Can't  we  wait  till  morn- 
ing?" 

"  No,  son.  We  can't  wait  here  any  more.  Go 
and  get  the  horses  and  put  the  saddles  on."  As 


214  LIN  MCLEAN 

Billy  obeyed,  Lin  looked  at  the  lighted  window. 
"  She  is  in  there,"  he  said.  "  She's  in  there.  So 
near."  He  looked,  and  turned  to  the  hotel,  from 
which  he  brought  his  chaps  and  spurs  and  put 
them  on.  "  I  understand  her  words,"  he  contin- 
ued. "  Her  words,  the  meaning  of  them.  But 
not  what  she  means,  I  guess.  It  will  take  study- 
in'  over.  Why,  she  don't  blame  me  !"  he  suddenly 
said,  speaking  to  me  instead  of  to  himself. 

"  Lin,"  I  answered,  "  she  has  only  just  heard 
this,  you  see.  Wait  awhile." 

"  That's  not  the  trouble.  She  knows  what  kind 
of  man  I  have  been,  and  she  forgives  that  just 
the  way  she  did  her  brother.  And  she  knows  how 
I  didn't  intentionally  conceal  anything.  Billy 
hasn't  been  around,  and  she  never  realized  about 
his  mother  and  me.  We've  talked  awful  open, 
but  that  was  not  pleasant  to  speak  of,  and  the 
whole  country  knew  it  so  long  —  and  I  never 
thought !  She  don't  blame  me.  She  says  she 
understands  ;  but  she  says  I  have  a  wife  livin'." 

"  That  is  nonsense,"  I  declared. 

u  Yu'  mustn't  say  that,"  said  he.  "  She  don't 
claim  she's  a  wife,  either.  She  just  shakes  her 
head  when  I  asked  her  why  she  feels  so.  It  must 
be  different  to  you  and  me  from  the  way  it  seems 
to  her.  I  don't  see  her  view  ;  maybe  I  never  can 
see  it ;  but  she's  made  me  feel  she  has  it,  and 
that  she's  honest,  and  loves  me  true — "  His 
voice  broke  for  a  moment.  "  She  said  she'd 
wait." 

"You  can't  have  a  marriage  broken  that  was 
never  tied,"  I  said.  "  But  perhaps  Governor  Bar- 
ker or  Judge  Henry — " 


SEPAR'S  VIGILANTE  215 

"  No,"  said  the  cow-puncher.  "  Law  couldn't 
fool  her.  She's  thinking  of  something  back  of 
law.  She  said  she'd  wait — always.  And  when  I 
took  it  in  that  this  was  all  over  and  done,  and 
when  I  thought  of  my  ranch  and  the  chickens — 
well,  I  couldn't  think  of  things  at  all,  and  I  came 
and  waked  Billy  to  clear  out  and  quit." 

"  What  did  you  tell  her  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Tell  her  ?  Nothin',  I  guess.  I  don't  remem- 
ber getting  out  of  the  room.  Why,  here's  actual- 
ly her  pistol,  and  she's  got  mine  !" 

"Man,  man  !"  said  I,  "go  back  and  tell  her  to 
keep  it,  and  that  you'll  wait  too — always  !" 

"  Would  yu'?" 

"  Look  !"  I  pointed  to  Jessamine  standing  in 
the  door. 

I  saw  his  face  as  he  turned  to  her,  and  I  walk- 
ed toward  Billy  and  the  horses.  Presently  I 
heard  steps  on  the  wooden  station,  and  from  its 
black,  brief  shadow  the  two  came  walking,  Lin 
and  his  sweetheart,  into  the  moonlight.  They 
were  not  speaking,  but  merely  walked  together 
in  the  clear  radiance,  hand  in  hand,  like  two 
children.  I  saw  that  she  was  weeping,  and  that 
beneath  the  tyranny  of  her  resolution  her  whole 
loving,  ample  nature  was  wrung.  But  the  strange, 
narrow  fibre  in  her  would  not  yield  !  I  saw  them 
go  to  the  horses,  and  Jessamine  stood  while  Bil- 
ly and  Lin  mounted.  Then  quickly  the  cow- 
puncher  sprang  down  again  and  folded  her  in 
his  arms. 

"  Lin,  dear  Lin  !  dear  neighbor  !"  she  sobbed. 
She  could  not  withhold  this  last  good-bye. 

I  do  not  think  he  spoke.     In  a  moment  the 


2l6  LIN   McLEAN 

horses  started  and  were  gone,  flying,  rushing 
away  into  the  great  plain,  until  sight  and  sound 
of  them  were  lost,  and  only  the  sage-brush  was 
there,  bathed  in  the  high,  bright  moon.  The  last 
thing  I  remember  as  I  lay  in  my  blankets  was 
Jessamine's  window  still  lighted,  and  the  water- 
tank,  clear-lined  and  black,  standing  over  Separ. 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE 


CHILDREN  have  many  special  endowments,  and 
of  these  the  chief  est  is  to  ask  questions  that  their 
elders  must  skirmish  to  evade.  Married  people 
and  aunts  and  uncles  commonly  discover  this, 
but  mere  instinct  does  not  guide  one  to  it.  A 
maiden  of  twenty-three  will  not  necessarily  di- 
vine it.  Now  except  in  one  unhappy  hour  of  stress 
and  surprise,  Miss  Jessamine  Buckner  had  been 
more  than  equal  to  life  thus  far.  But  never  yet 
had  she  been  shut  up  a  whole  day  in  one  room 
with  a  boy  of  nine.  Had  this  experience  been 
hers,  perhaps  she  would  not  have  written  to  Mr. 
McLean  the  friendly  and  singular  letter  in  which 
she  hoped  he  was  well,  and  said  that  she  was  very 
well,  and  how  was  dear  little  Billy  ?  She  was  glad 
Mr.  McLean  had  stayed  away.  That  was  just  like 
his  honorable  nature,  and  what  she  expected  of 
him.  And  she  was  perfectly  happy  at  Separ,  and 
"  yours  sincerely  and  always,  *  Neighbor.'  "  Post- 
script. Talking  of  Billy  Lusk — if  Lin  was  busy 
with  gathering  the  cattle,  why  not  send  Billy 
down  to  stop  quietly  with  her.  She  would  make 
him  a  bed  in  the  ticket-office,  and  there  she  would 
be  to  see  after  him  all  the  time.  She  knew  Lin 
did  not  like  his  adopted  child  to  be  too  much  in 


218  LIN  MCLEAN 

cow-camp  with  the  men.  She  would  adopt  him, 
too,  for  just  as  long  as  convenient  to  Lin — until 
the  school  opened  on  Bear  Creek,  if  Lin  so  wished. 
Jessamine  wrote  a  good  deal  about  how  much 
better  care  any  woman  can  take  of  a  boy  of 
Billy's  age  than  any  man  knows.  The  stage-coach 
brought  the  answer  to  this  remarkably  soon — 
young  Billy  with  a  trunk  and  a  letter  of  twelve 
pages  in  pencil  and  ink — the  only  writing  of  this 
length  ever  done  by  Mr.  McLean. 

"  I  can  write  a  lot  quicker  than  Lin,"  said  Billy, 
upon  arriving.  "  He  was  fussing  at  that  away 
late  by  the  fire  in  camp,  an'  waked  me  up  crawling 
in  our  bed.  An'  then  he  had  to  finish  it  next 
night  when  he  went  over  to  the  cabin  for  my 
clothes." 

"You  don't  say!"  said  Jessamine.  And  Billy 
suffered  her  to  kiss  him  again. 

When  not  otherwise  occupied  Jessamine  took 
the  letter  out  of  its  locked  box  and  read  it,  or 
looked  at  it.  Thus  the  first  days  had  gone  finely 
at  Separ,  the  weather  being  beautiful  and  Billy 
much  out-of-doors.  But  sometimes  the  weather 
changes  in  Wyoming ;  and  now  it  was  that  Miss 
Jessamine  learned  the  talents  of  childhood. 

Soon  after  breakfast  this  stormy  morning  Billy 
observed  the  twelve  pages  being  taken  out  of 
their  box,  and  spoke  from  his  sudden  brain. 
"  Honey  Wiggin  says  Lin's  losing  his  grip  about 
girls,"  he  remarked.  "  He  says  you  couldn't  'a' 
downed  him  onced.  You'd  'a'  had  to  marry  him. 
Honey  says  Lin  'ain't  worked  it  like  he  done  in 
old  times." 

"  Now  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  was  right,"  said 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  2 19 

Jessamine,  buoyantly.  "  And  that  being  the  case, 
I'm  going  to  set  to  work  at  your  things  till  it 
clears,  and  then  we'll  go  for  our  ride." 

"  Yes,"  said  Billy.  "  When  does  a  man  get  too 
old  to  marry  ?" 

"  I'm  only  a  girl,  you  see.     I  don't  know." 

"  Yes.  Honey  said  he  wouldn't  'a'  thought  Lin 
was  that  old.  But  I  guess  he  must  be  thirty." 

"  Old  !"  exclaimed  Jessamine.  And  she  looked 
at  a  photograph  upon  her  table. 

"  But  Lin  'ain't  been  married  very  much,"  pur- 
sued Billy.  "  Mother's  the  only  one  they  speak  of. 
You  don't  have  to  stay  married  always,  do  you  ?" 

"  It's  better  to,"  said  Jessamine. 

"  Ah,  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Billy,  with  dispar- 
agement. "  You  ought  to  see  mother  and  father. 
I  wish  you  would  leave  Lin  marry  you,  though," 
said  the  boy,  coming  to  her  with  an  impulse  of 
affection.  "  Why  won't  you  if  he  don't  mind  ?" 

She  continued  to  parry  him,  but  this  was  not  a 
very  smooth  start  for  eight  in  the  morning.  Mo- 
ments of  lull  there  were,  when  the  telegraph  called 
her  to  the  front  room,  and  Billy's  young  mind 
shifted  to  inquiries  about  the  cipher  alphabet. 
And  she  gained  at  least  an  hour  teaching  him  to 
read  various  words  by  the  sound.  At  dinner,  too, 
he  was  refreshingly  silent.  But  such  silences  are 
unsafe,  and  the  weather  was  still  bad.  Four  o'clock 
found  them  much  where  they  had  been  at  eight. 

"  Please  tell  me  why  you  won't  leave  Lin  marry 
you."  He  was  at  the  window,  kicking  the  wall. 

"  That's  nine  times  since  dinner,"  she  replied, 
with  tireless  good  humor.  "  Now  if  you  ask  me 
twelve — " 


220  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  You'll  tell  ?"  said  the  boy,  swiftly. 

She  broke  into  a  laugh.  "No.  I'll  go  riding 
and  you'll  stay  at  home.  When  I  was  little  and 
would  ask  things  beyond  me,  they  only  gave  me 
three  times." 

"  I've  got  two  more,  anyway.     Ha-ha  !" 

"  Better  save  'em  up,  though." 

"  What  did  they  do  to  you  ?  Ah,  I  don't  want 
to  go  a-riding.  It's  nasty  all  over."  He  stared 
out  at  the  day  against  which  Separ's  doors  had 
been  tight  closed  since  morning.  Eight  hours  of 
furious  wind  had  raised  the  dust  like  a  sea.  "  I 
wish  the  old  train  would  come,"  observed  Billy, 
continuing  to  kick  the  wall.  "  I  wish  I  was  going 
somewheres."  Smoky,  level,  and  hot,  the  south 
wind  leapt  into  Separ  across  five  hundred  unbrok- 
en miles.  The  plain  was  blanketed  in  a  tawny 
eclipse.  Each  minute  the  near  buildings  became 
invisible  in  a  turbulent  herd  of  clouds.  Above 
this  travelling  blur  of  the  soil  the  top  of  the  water- 
tank  alone  rose  bulging  into  the  clear  sun.  The 
sand  spirals  would  lick  like  flames  along  the  bulk 
of  the  lofty  tub,  and  soar  skyward.  It  was  not 
shipping  season.  The  freight-cars  stood  idle  in  a 
long  line.  No  cattle  huddled  in  the  corrals.  No 
strangers  moved  in  town.  No  cow-ponies  dozed 
in  front  of  the  saloon.  Their  riders  were  distant 
in  ranch  and  camp.  Human  noise  was  extinct  in 
Separ.  Beneath  the  thunder  of  the  sultry  blasts 
the  place  lay  dead  in  its  flapping  shroud  of  dust. 
"Why  won't  you  tell  me?"  droned  Billy.  For 
some  time  he  had  been  returning,  like  a  mosquito 
brushed  away. 

"  That's  ten  times,"  said  Jessamine,  promptly. 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  221 

"  Oh,  goodness  !  Pretty  soon  I'll  not  be  glad  I 
came.  I'm  about  twiced  as  less  glad  now." 

"Well,"  said  Jessamine,  "  there's  a  man  coming 
to-day  to  mend  the  government  telegraph-line 
between  Drybone  and  McKinney.  Maybe  he 
would  take  you  back  as  far  as  Box  Elder,  if  you 
want  to  go  very  much.  Shall  I  ask  him  ?" 

Billy  was  disappointed  at  this  cordial  second- 
ing of  his  mood.  He  did  not  make  a  direct  re- 
joinder. "  I  guess  I'll  go  outside  now,"  said  he, 
with  a  threat  in  his  tone. 

She  continued  mending  his  stockings.  Finished 
ones  lay  rolled  at  one  side  of  her  chair,  and  upon 
the  other  were  more  waiting  her  attention. 

"  And  I'm  going  to  turn  back  hand-springs  on 
top  of  tf//the  freight-cars,"  he  stated,  more  loudly. 

She  indulged  again  in  merriment,  laughing 
sweetly  at  him,  and  without  restraint. 

"And  I'm  sick  of  what  you  all  keep  a-saying  to 
me !"  he  shouted.  "Just  as  if  I  was  a  baby." 

"  Why,  Billy,  who  ever  said  you  were  a  baby  ?" 

"  All  of  you  do.  Honey,  and  Lin,  and  you,  now, 
and  everybody.  What  makes  you  say  *  that's  nine 
times,  Billy  ;  oh,  Billy,  that's  ten  times,'  if  you 
don't  mean  I'm  a  baby  ?  And  you  laugh  me  off, 
just  like  they  do,  and  just  like  I  was  a  regular 
baby.  You  won't  tell  me — " 

"  Billy,  listen.  Did  nobody  ever  ask  you  some- 
thing you  did  not  want  to  tell  them  ?" 

"  That's  not  a  bit  the  same,  because — because — 
because  I  treat  'em  square  and  because  it's  not 
their  business.  But  every  time  I  ask  anybody 
'most  anything,  they  say  I'm  not  old  enough  to 
understand  ;  and  I'll  be  ten  soon.  And  it  is  my 


222  LIN  MCLEAN 

business  when  it's  about  the  kind  of  a  mother  I'm 
agoing  to  have.  Suppose  I  quit  acting  square, 
an*  told  'em,  when  they  bothered  me,  they  weren't 
young  enough  to  understand  !  Wish  I  had.  Guess 
I  will,  too,  and  watch  'em  step  around."  For  a 
moment  his  mind  dwelt  upon  this,  and  he  whis- 
tled a  revengeful  strain. 

"  Goodness,  Billy  !"  said  Jessamine,  at  the  sight 
of  the  next  stocking.  "  The  whole  heel  is  scorched 
off." 

He  eyed  the  ruin  with  indifference.  "  Ah,  that 
was  last  month  when  I  and  Lin  shot  the  bear  in 
the  swamp  willows.  He  made  me  dry  off  my  legs. 
Chuck  it  away." 

"  And  spoil  the  pair  ?     No,  indeed  !" 

"  Mother  always  chucked  'em,  an'  father  'd  buy 
new  ones  till  I  skipped  from  home.  Lin  kind  o' 
mends  'em." 

"  Does  he  ?"  said  Jessamine,  softly.  And  she 
looked  at  the  photograph. 

"  Yes.  What  made  you  write  him  for  to  let  me 
come  and  bring  my  stockin's  and  things  ?" 

"  Don't  you  see,  Billy,  there  is  so  little  work  at 
this  station  that  I'd  be  looking  out  of  the  window 
all  day  just  the  pitiful  way  you  do  ?" 

"  Oh  !"  Billy  pondered.  "  And  so  I  said  to  Lin," 
he  continued,  "  why  didn't  he  send  down  his  own 
clothes,  too,  an'  let  you  fix  'em  all.  And  Honey 
Wiggin  laughed  right  in  his  coffee-cup  so  it  all 
sploshed  out.  And  the  cook  he  asked  me  if  mother 
used  to  mend  Lin's  clothes.  But  I  guess  she 
chucked  'em  like  she  always  did  father's  and  mine. 
I  was  with  father,  you  know,  when  mother  was 
married  to  Lin  that  time."  He  paused  again, 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  223 

while  his  thoughts  and  fears  struggled.  "  But 
Lin  says  I  needn't  ever  go  back,"  he  went  on, 
reasoning  and  confiding  to  her.  "  Lin  don't  like 
mother  any  more,  I  guess."  His  pondering  grew 
still  deeper,  and  he  looked  at  Jessamine  for  some 
while.  Then  his  face  wakened  with  a  new  theory. 
"  Don't  Lin  like  you  any  more  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Jessamine,  crimsoning,  "  yes  !  Why, 
he  sent  you  to  me  !" 

"  Well,  he  got  hot  in  camp  when  I  said  that 
about  sending  his  clothes  to  you.  He  quit  supper 
pretty  soon,  and  went  away  off  a  walking.  And 
that's  another  time  they  said  I  was  too  young. 
But  Lin  don't  come  to  see  you  any  more." 

"Why,  I  hope  he  loves  me,"  murmured  Jessa- 
mine. "  Always." 

"  Well,  I  hope  so  too,"  said  Billy,  earnestly.  "  For 
I  like  you.  When  I  seen  him  show  you  our  cabin 
on  Box  Elder,  and  the  room  he  had  fixed  for  you, 
I  was  glad  you  were  coming  to  be  my  mother. 
Mother  used  to  be  awful.  I  wouldn't  'a'  minded 
her  licking  me  if  she'd  done  other  things.  Ah, 
pshaw  !  I  wasn't  going  to  stand  that."  Billy  now 
came  close  to  Jessamine.  "  I  do  wish  you  would 
come  and  live  with  me  and  Lin,"  said  he.  "  Lin's 
awful  nice." 

"  Don't  I  know  it  ?"  said  Jessamine,  tenderly. 

"  'Cause  I  heard  you  say  you  were  going  to  marry 
him,"  went  on  Billy.  "  And  I  seen  him  kiss  you 
and  you  let  him  that  time  we  went  away  when  you 
found  but  about  mother.  And  you're  not  mad, 
and  he's  not,  and  nothing  happens  at  all,  all  the 
same  !  Won't  you  tell  me,  please  ?" 

Jessamine's  eyes  were  glistening,  and  she  took 


224  LIN  MCLEAN 

him  in  her  lap.  She  was  not  going  to  tell  him  that 
he  was  too  young  this  time.  But  whatever  things 
she  had  shaped  to  say  to  the  boy  were  never 
said. 

Through  the  noise  of  the  gale  came  the  steadier 
sound  of  the  train,  and  the  girl  rose  quickly  to 
preside  over  her  ticket-office  and  duties  behind 
the  railing  in  the  front  room  of  the  station.  The 
boy  ran  to  the  window  to  watch  the  great  event 
of  Separ's  day.  The  locomotive  loomed  out  from 
the  yellow  clots  of  drift,  paused  at  the  water-tank, 
and  then  with  steam  and  humming  came  slowly 
on  by  the  platform.  Slowly  its  long  dust-choked 
train  emerged  trundling  behind  it,  and  ponder- 
ously halted.  There  was  no  one  to  go.  No  one 
came  to  buy  a  ticket  of  Jessamine.  The  con- 
ductor looked  in  on  business,  but  she  had  no  tel- 
egraphic orders  for  him.  The  express  agent 
jumped  off  and  looked  in  for  pleasure.  He  re- 
ceived his  daily  smile  and  nod  of  friendly  discour- 
agement. Then  the  light  bundle  of  mail  was 
flung  inside  the  door.  Separ  had  no  mail  to  go 
out.  As  she  was  picking  up  the  letters  young 
Billy  passed  her  like  a  shadow,  and  fled  out.  Two 
passengers  had  descended  from  the  train,  a 
man  and  a  large  woman.  His  clothes  were  loose 
and  careless  upon  him.  He  held  valises,  and 
stood  uncertainly  looking  about  him  in  the  storm. 
Her  firm,  heavy  body  was  closely  dressed.  In  her 
hat  was  a  large,  handsome  feather.  Along  between 
the  several  cars  brakemen  leaned  out,  watched 
her,  and  grinned  to  each  other.  But  her  big, 
hard-shining  blue  eyes  were  fixed  curiously  upon 
the  station  where  Jessamine  was. 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  225 

"  It's  all  night  we  may  be  here,  is  it  ?"  she  said 
to  the  man,  harshly. 

"  How  am  I  to  help  that  ?"  he  retorted. 

"  I'll  help  it.  If  this  hotel's  the  sty  it  used  to 
be,  I'll  walk  to  Tommy's.  I've  not  saw  him  since 
I  left  Bear  Creek." 

She  stalked  into  the  hotel,  while  the  man  went 
slowly  to  the  station.  He  entered,  and  found  Jes- 
samine behind  her  railing,  sorting  the  slim  mail. 

"  Good-evening,"  he  said.  "  Excuse  me.  There 
was  to  be  a  wagon  sent  here." 

"  For  the  telegraph-mender  ?  Yes,  sir.  It  came 
Tuesday.  You're  to  find  the  pole-wagon  at  Dry- 
bone." 

This  news  was  good,  and  all  that  he  wished  to 
know.  He  could  drive  out  and  escape  a  night  at 
the  Hotel  Brunswick.  But  he  lingered,  because 
Jessamine  spoke  so  pleasantly  to  him.  He  had 
heard  of  her  also. 

"  Governor  Barker  has  not  been  around  here  ?" 
he  said. 

"  Not  yet,  sir.  We  understand  he  is  expected 
through  on  a  hunting-trip." 

"  I  suppose  there  is  room  for  two  and  a  trunk 
on  that  wagon  ?" 

"  I  reckon  so,  sir."  Jessamine  glanced  at  the 
man,  and  he  took  himself  out.  Most  men  took 
themselves  out  if  Jessamine  so  willed  ;  and  it  was 
mostly  achieved  thus,  in  amity. 

On  the  platform  the  man  found  his  wife  again. 

"  Then  I  needn't  to  walk  to  Tommy's,"  she  said. 
"And  we'll  eat  as  we  travel.     But  you'll  wait  till 
I'm  through  with  her."     She  made  a  gesture  tow- 
ard the  station. 
15 


226  LIN  MCLEAN 

"Why — why — what  do  you  want  with  her. 
Don't  you  know  who  she  is  ?" 

"  It  was  me  told  you  who  she  was,  James  Lusk. 
You'll  wait  till  I've  been  and  asked  her  after  Lin 
McLean's  health,  and  till  I've  saw  how  the  likes 
of  her  talks  to  the  likes  of  me." 

He  made  a  feeble  protest  that  this  would  do  no 
one  any  good. 

"Sew  yourself  up,  James  Lusk.  If  it  has  been 
your  idea  I  come  with  yus  clear  from  Laramie  to 
watch  yus  plant  telegraph-poles  in  the  sage-brush, 
why  you're  off.  I  'ain't  heard  much  'o  Lin  since 
the  day  he  learned  it  was  you  and  not  him  that 
was  my  husband.  And  I've  come  back  in  this 
country  to  have  a  look  at  my  old  friends — and  " 
(she  laughed  loudly  and  nodded  at  the  station) 
"  my  old  friends'  new  friends  !" 

Thus  ordered,  the  husband  wandered  away  to 
find  his  wagon  and  the  horse. 

Jessamine,  in  the  office,  had  finished  her  station 
duties  and  returned  to  her  needle.  She  sat  con- 
templating the  scorched  sock  of  Billy's,  and  heard 
a  heavy  step  at  the  threshold.  She  turned,  and 
there  was  the  large  woman  with  the  feather  quiet- 
ly surveying  her.  The  words  which  the  stranger 
spoke  then  were  usual  enough  for  a  beginning. 
But  there  was  something  of  threat  in  the  strong 
animal  countenance,  something  of  laughter  ready 
to  break  out.  Much  beauty  of  its  kind  had  evi- 
dently been  in  the  face,  and  now,  as  substitute  for 
what  was  gone,  was  the  brag  look  of  assertion  that 
it  was  still  all  there.  Many  stranded  travellers 
knocked  at  Jessamine's  door,  and  now,  as  always, 
she  offered  the  hospitalities  of  her  neat  abode,  the 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  227 

only  room  in  Separ  fit  for  a  woman.  As  she  spoke, 
and  the  guest  surveyed  and  listened,  the  door 
blew  shut  with  a  crash. 

Outside,  in  a  shed,  Billy  had  placed  the  wagon 
between  himself  and  his  father. 

"  How  you  have  grown  !"  the  man  was  saying  ; 
and  he  smiled.  "  Come,  shake  hands.  I  did  not 
think  to  see  you  here." 

"  Dare  you  to  touch  me  !"  Billy  screamed.  "  No, 
I'll  never  come  with  you.  Lin  says  I  needn't  to." 

The  man  passed  his  hand  across  his  forehead, 
and  leaned  against  the  wheel.  "  Lord,  Lord  !"  he 
muttered. 

His  son  warily  slid  out  of  the  shed  and  left  him 
leaning  there. 


II 

Lin  McLean,  bachelor,  sat  out  in  front  of  his 
cabin,  looking  at  a  small  bright  pistol  that  lay  in 
his  hand.  He  held  it  tenderly,  cherishing  it,  and 
did  not  cease  slowly  to  polish  it.  Revery  filled  his 
eyes,  and  in  his  whole  face  was  sadness  unmasked, 
because  only  the  animals  were  there  to  perceive 
his  true  feelings.  Sunlight  and  waving  shadows 
moved  together  upon  the  green  of  his  pasture, 
cattle  and  horses  loitered  in  the  opens  by  the 
stream.  Down  Box  Elder's  course,  its  valley  and 
golden-chimneyed  bluffs  widened  away  into  the 
level  and  the  blue  of  the  greater  valley.  Up- 
stream the  branches  and  shining,  quiet  leaves  en- 
tered the  mountains  where  the  rock  chimneys 
narrowed  to  a  gateway,  a  citadel  of  shafts  and 


228  LIN    McLEAN 

turrets,  crimson  and  gold  above  the  filmy  emerald 
of  the  trees.  Through  there  the  road  went  up  from 
the  cotton-woods  into  the  cool  quaking  asps  and 
pines,  and  so  across  the  range  and  away  to  Separ. 
Along  the  ridge-pole  of  the  new  stable,  two  hun- 
dred yards  down-stream,  sat  McLean's  turkeys, 
and  cocks  and  hens  walked  in  front  of  him  here 
by  his  cabin  and  fenced  garden.  Slow  smoke  rose 
from  the  cabin's  chimney  into  the  air,  in  which 
were  no  sounds  but  the  running  water  and  the 
afternoon  chirp  of  birds,  Amid  this,  frame- 
work of  a  home  the  cow-puncher  sat,  lonely,  in- 
attentive, polishing  the  treasured  weapon  as  if  it 
were  not  already  long  clean.  His  target  stood 
some  twenty  steps  in  front  of  him — a  small  cot- 
tonwood-tree,  its  trunk  chipped  and  honeycombed 
with  bullets  which  he  had  fired  into  it  each  day 
for  memory's  sake.  Presently  he  lifted  the  pistol 
and  looked  at  its  name — the  word  "Neighbor" 
engraved  upon  it. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  he,  aloud,  "  if  she  keeps  the 
rust  off  mine  ?"  Then  he  lifted  it  slowly  to  his 
lips  and  kissed  the  word  u  Neighbor." 

The  clank  of  wheels  sounded  on  the  road,  and 
he  put  the  pistol  quickly  down.  Dreaminess  van- 
ished from  his  face.  He  looked  around  alertly, 
but  no  one  had  seen  him.  The  clanking  was  still 
among  the  trees  a  little  distance  up  Box  Elder. 
It  approached  deliberately,  while  he  watched  for 
the  vehicle  to  emerge  upon  the  open  where  his 
cabin  stood  ;  and  then  they  came,  a  man  and 
a  woman.  At  sight  of  her  Mr.  McLean  half  rose, 
but  sat  down  again.  Neither  of  them  had  noticed 
him,  sitting  as  they  were  in  silence  and  the  drow- 


"DOWN  BOX  ELDER'S  COURSE" 


DESTINY    AT  DRYBONE  229 

siness  of  a  long  drive.  The  man  was  weak-faced, 
with  good  looks  sallowed  by  dissipation,  and  a 
vanquished  glance  of  the  eye.  As  the  woman  had 
stood  on  the  platform  at  Separ,  so  she  sat  now, 
upright,  bold,  and  massive.  The  brag  of  past 
beauty  was  a  habit  settled  upon  her  stolid  feat- 
ures. Both  sat  inattentive  to  each  other  and  to 
everything  around  them.  The  wheels  turned 
slowly  and  with  a  dry,  dead  noise,  the  reins  bellied 
loosely  to  the  shafts,  the  horse's  head  hung  low. 
So  they  drew  close.  Then  the  man  saw  McLean, 
and  color  came  into  his  face  and  went  away. 

"Good-evening,"  said  he,  clearing  his  throat. 
"  We  heard  you  was  in  cow-camp." 

The  cow-puncher  noted  how  he  tried  to  smile, 
and  a  freakish  change  crossed  his  own  counte- 
nance. He  nodded  slightly,  and  stretched  his  legs 
out  as  he  sat. 

"You  look  natural,"  said  the  woman,  famil- 
iarly. 

"  Seem  to  be  fixed  nice  here,"  continued  the  mart. 
"  Hadn't  heard  of  it.  Well,  we'll  be  going  along. 
Glad  to  have  seen  you." 

"  Your  wheel  wants  greasing,"  said  McLean, 
briefly,  his  eye  upon  the  man. 

"  Can't  stop.  I  expect  she'll  last  to  Drybone. 
Good-evening." 

"  Stay  to  supper,"  said  McLean,  always  seated 
on  his  chair. 

"  Can't  stop,  thank  you.  I  expect  we  can  last 
to  Drybone."  He  twitched  the  reins. 

McLean  levelled  a  pistol  at  a  chicken,  and 
knocked  off  its  head.  "  Better  stay  to  supper,"  he 
suggested,  very  distinctly. 


230  LIN  MCLEAN 

"It's  business,  I  tell  you.  I've  got  to  catch 
Governor  Barker  before  he — " 

The  pistol  cracked,  and  a  second  chicken  shuffled 
in  the  dust.  "  Better  stay  to  supper,"  drawled  Mc- 
Lean. 

The  man  looked  up  at  his  wife. 

"  So  yus  need  me  !"  she  broke  out.  "  'Ain't  got 
heart  enough  in  yer  played-out  body  to  stand  up 
to  a  man.  We'll  eat  here.  Get  down." 

The  husband  stepped  to  the  ground.  "  I  didn't 
suppose  you'd  want — " 

"  Ho  !  want  ?  What's  Lin,  or  you,  or  anything 
to  me?  Help  me  out." 

Both  men  came  forward.  She  descended,  lean- 
ing heavily  upon  each,  her  blue  staring  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  cow-puncher. 

"  No,  yus  'ain't  changed,"  she  said.  "  Same  in 
your  looks  and  same  in  your  actions.  Was  you  ex- 
pecting you  could  scare  me,  you,  Lin  McLean  ?" 

"  I  just  wanted  chickens  for  supper,"  said  he. 

Mrs.  Lusk  gave  a  hard  high  laugh.  "  I'll  eat 
'em.  It's  not  I  that  cares.  As  for — "  She  stopped. 
Her  eye  had  fallen  upon  the  pistol  and  the  name 
"  Neighbor."  "  As  for  you,"  she  continued  to  Mr. 
Lusk, "  don't  you  be  standing  dumb  same  as  the 
horse." 

"  Better  take  him  to  the  stable,  Lusk,"  said  Mc- 
Lean. 

He  picked  the  chickens  up,  showed  the  woman 
to  the  best  chair  in  his  room,  and  went  into  his 
kitchen  to  cook  supper  for  three.  He  gave  his 
guests  no  further  attention,  nor  did  either  of  them 
come  in  where  he  was,  nor  did  the  husband  rejoin 
the  wife.  He  walked  slowly  up  and  down  in  the 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  231 

air,  and  she  sat  by  herself  in  the  room.  Lin's 
steps  as  he  made  ready  round  the  stove  and  table, 
and  Lusk's  slow  tread  out  in  the  setting  sunlight, 
were  the  only  sounds  about  the  cabin.  When  the 
host  looked  into  the  door  of  the  next  room  to  an- 
nounce that  his  meal  was  served,  the  woman  sat 
in  her  chair  no  longer,  but  stood  with  her  back 
to  him  by  a  shelf.  She  gave  a  slight  start  at  his 
summons,  and  replaced  something.  He  saw  that 
she  had  been  examining  "Neighbor,"  and  his  face 
hardened  suddenly  to  fierceness  as  he  looked  at 
her;  but  he  repeated  quietly  that  she  had  better 
come  in.  Thus  did  the  three  sit  down  to  their 
meal.  Occasionally  a  word  about  handing  some 
dish  fell  from  one  or  other  of  them,  but  nothing 
more,  until  Lusk  took  out  his  watch  and  men- 
tioned the  hour. 

"Yu've  not  ate  especially  hearty,"  said  Lin, 
resting  his  arms  upon  the  table. 

"  I'm  going,"  asserted  Lusk.  "  Governor  Barker 
may  start  out.  I've  got  my  interests  to  look 
after." 

"Why,  sure,"  said  Lin.  "I  can't  hope  you'll 
waste  all  your  time  on  just  me." 

Lusk  rose  and  looked  at  his  wife.  "  It  '11  be  ten 
now  before  we  get  to  Drybone,"  said  he.  And  he 
went  down  to  the  stable. 

The  woman  sat  still,  pressing  the  crumbs  of 
her  bread.  "  I  know  you  seen  me,"  she  said,  with- 
out looking  at  him. 

"  Saw  you  when  ?" 

"  I  knowed  it.  And  I  seen  how  you  looked  at 
me."  She  sat  twisting  and  pressing  the  crumb. 
Sometimes  it  was  round,  sometimes  it  was  a  cube, 


232  LIN  MCLEAN 

now  and  then  she  flattened  it  to  a  disk.  Mr. 
McLean  seemed  to  have  nothing  that  he  wished 
to  reply. 

"If  you  claim  that  pistol  is  yourn,"  she  said 
next,  "  I'll  tell  you  I  know  better.  If  you  ask 
me  whose  should  it  be  if  not  yourn,  I  would  not 
have  to  guess  the  name.  She  has  talked  to  me, 
and  me  to  her." 

She  was  still  looking  away  from  him  at  the 
bread-crumb,  or  she  could  have  seen  that  Mc- 
Lean's hand  was  trembling  as  he  watched  her, 
leaning  on  his  arms. 

"  Oh  yes,  she  was  willing  to  talk  to  me  !"  The 
woman  uttered  another  sudden  laugh.  "I  knowed 
about  her  —  all.  Things  get  heard  of  in  this 
world.  Did  not  all  about  you  and  me  come  to 
her  knowledge  in  its  own  good  time,  and  it  done 
and  gone  how  many  years?  My,  my,  my  !"  Her 
voice  grew  slow  and  absent.  She  stopped  for  a 
moment,  and  then  more  rapidly  resumed  :  "  It 
had  travelled  around  about  you  and  her  like  it 
always  will  travel.  It  was  known  how  you  had 
asked  her,  and  how  she  had  told  you  she  would 
have  you,  and  then  told  you  she  would  not  when 
she  learned  about  you  and  me.  Folkslhat  knowed 
yus  and  folks  that  never  seen  yus  in  their  lives 
had  to  have  their  word  about  her  facing  you  down 
you  had  another  wife,  though  she  knowed  the 
truth  about  me  being  married  to  Lusk  and  him 
livin'  the  day  you  married  me,  and  ten  and  twenty 
marriages  could  not  have  tied  you  and  me  up,  no 
matter  how  honest  you  swore  to  no  hinderance. 
Folks  said  it  was  plain  she  did  not  want  yus.  It 
give  me  a  queer  feelin'  to  see  that  girl.  It  give 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  233 

me  a  wish  to  tell  her  to  her  face  that  she  did  not 
love  yus  and  did  not  know  love.  Wait — wait, 
Lin  !  Yu'  never  hit  me  yet." 

"  No,"  said  the  cow-puncher.  "  Nor  now.  I'm 
not  Lusk." 

"  Yu'  looked  so — so  bad,  Lin.  I  never  seen  yu* 
look  so  bad  in  old  days.  Wait,  now,  and  I  must 
tell  it.  I  wished  to  laugh  in  her  face  and  say, 
*  What  do  you  know  about  love  ?'  So  I  walked  in. 
Lin,  she  does  love  yus  !" 

"  Yes,"  breathed  McLean. 

"She  was  sittin'  back  in  her  room  at  Separ. 
Not  the  ticket-office,  but — " 

"  I  know,"  the  cow  -  puncher  said.  His  eyes 
were  burning. 

"  It's  snug,  the  way  she  has  it.  '  Good-after- 
noon,' I  says.  *  Is  this  Miss  Jessamine  Buckner  ?'  " 

At  his  sweetheart's  name  the  glow  in  Lin's  eyes 
seemed  to  quiver  to  a  flash. 

"And  she  spoke  pleasant  to  me — pleasant  and 
gay-like.  But  a  woman  can  tell  sorrow  in  a  wom- 
an's eyes.  And  she  asked  me  would  I  rest  in 
her  room  there,  and  what  was  my  name.  *  They 
tell  me  you  claim  to  know  it  better  than  I  do/  I 
says.  *  They  tell  me  you  say  it  is  Mrs.  McLean.' 
She  put  her  hand  on  her  breast,  and  she  keeps 
lookin'  at  me  without  never  speaking.  'Maybe  I 
am  not  so  welcome  now,'  I  says.  *  One  minute,' 
says  she.  '  Let  me  get  used  to  it.'  And  she  sat 
down. 

"  Lin,  she  is  a  square-lookin'  girl.  I'll  say  that 
for  her. 

"  I  never  thought  to  sit  down  onced  myself  ;  I 
don't  know  why,  but  I  kep'  a-standing,  and  I  took 


234  LIN  MCLEAN 

in  that  room  of  hers.  She  had  flowers  and  things 
around  there,  and  I  seen  your  picture  standing 
on  the  table,  and  I  seen  your  six-shooter  right 
by  it — and,  oh,  Lin,  hadn't  I  knowed  your  face 
before  ever  she  did,  and  that  gun  you  used  to  let 
me  shoot  on  Bear  Creek?  It  took  me  that  sud- 
den !  Why,  it  rushed  over  me  so  I  spoke  right 
out  different  from  what  I'd  meant  and  what  I 
had  ready  fixed  up  to  say. 

"  *  Why  did  you  do  it  ?'  I  says  to  her,  while  she 
was  a-sitting.  '  How  could  you  act  so,  and  you  a 
woman  ?'  She  just  sat,  and  her  sad  eyes  made  me 
madder  at  the  idea  of  her.  'You  have  had  real 
sorrow,'  says  I, '  if  they  report  correct.  You  have 
knowed  your  share  of  death,  and  misery,  and 
hard  work,  and  all.  Great  God !  ain't  there 
things  enough  that  come  to  yus  uncalled  for  and 
natural,  but  you  must  run  around  huntin'  up 
more  that  was  leavin'  yus  alone  and  givin'  yus  a 
chance?  I  knowed  him  onced.  I  knowed  your 
Lin  McLean.  And  when  that  was  over,  I  knowed 
for  the  first  time  how  men  can  be  different.'  I'm 
started,  Lin,  I'm  started.  Leave  me  go  on,  and 
when  I'm  through  I'll  quit.  '  Some  of  'em,  any- 
way,' I  says  to  her,  '  has  hearts  and  self-respect, 
and  ain't  hogs  clean  through.' 

" '  I  know,'  she  says,  thoughtful-like. 

"  And  at  her  whispering  that  way  I  gets  mad- 
der. 

"'You  know!'  I  says  then.  'What  is  it  that 
you  know  ?  Do  you  know  that  you  have  hurt  a 
good  man's  heart  ?  For  onced  I  hurt  it  myself, 
though  different.  And  hurts  in  them  kind  of 
hearts  stays.  Some  hearts  is  that  luscious  and 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  235 

pasty  you  can  stab  'em  and  it  closes  up  so  yu'd 
never  suspicion  the  place — but  Lin  McLean  !  Nor 
yet  don't  yus  believe  his  is  the  kind  that  breaks — 
if  any  kind  does  that.  You  may  sit  till  the  gray 
hairs,  and  you  may  wall  up  your  womanhood, 
but  if  a  man  has  got  manhood  like  him,  he  will 
never  sit  till  the  gray  hairs.  Grief  over  losin' 
the  best  will  not  stop  him  from  searchin'  for  a 
second  best  after  a  while.  He  wants  a  home,  and 
he  has  got  a  right  to  one/  says  I  to  Miss  Jessa- 
mine. *  You  have  not  walled  up  Lin  McLean,'  I 
says  to  her.  Wait,  Lin,  wait.  Yus  needn't  to  tell 
me  that's  a  lie.  I  know  a  man  thinks  he's  walled 
up  for  a  while." 

"  She  could  have  told  you  it  was  a  lie,"  said  the 
cow-puncher. 

"  She  did  not.    '  Let  him  get  a  home,'  says  she. 

*  I  want  him  to  be  happy.'    '  That  flash  in  your 
eyes  talks  different,'  says  I.     *  Sure  enough  yus 
wants  him  to  be  happy.     Sure  enough.     But  not 
happy  along  with  Miss  Second  Best.' 

"  Lin,  she  looked  at  me  that  piercin'  ! 

"And  I  goes   on,  for  I  was  wound  away  up. 

*  And  he  will  be  happy,  too,'  I  says.    '  Miss  Second 
Best  will  have  a  talk  with  him  about  your  pict- 
ure and  little  "  Neighbor,"  which  he'll  not  send 
back  to  yus,  because  the  hurt  in  his  heart  is  there. 
And  he  will  keep  'em  out  of  sight  somewheres 
after  his  talk  with  Miss  Second  Best.'    Lin,  Lin, 
I  laughed  at  them  words  of  mine,  but  I  was  that 
wound  up   I  was   strange  to  myself.     And  she 
watchin'  me  that  way  !    And  I  says  to  her  :  *  Miss 
Second  Best  will  not  be  the  crazy  thing  to  think 
I  am  any  wife  of  his  standing  in  her  way.     He 


236  LIN  MCLEAN 

will  tell  her  about  me.  He  will  tell  how  onced 
he  thought  he  was  solid  married  to  me  till  Lusk 
came  back  ;  and  she  will  drop  me  out  of  sight 
along  with  the  rest  that  went  nameless.  They 
was  not  oncomprehensible  to  you,  was  they  ? 
You  have  learned  something  by  livin',  I  guess  ! 
And  Lin — your  Lin,  not  mine,  nor  never  mine  in 
heart  for  a  day  so  deep  as  he's  yourn  right  now — 
he  has  been  gay — gay  as  any  I've  knowed.  Why, 
look  at  that  face  of  his  !  Could  a  boy  with  a  face 
like  that  help  bein'  gay?  But  that  don't  touch 
what's  the  true  Lin  deep  down.  Nor  will  his 
deep-down  love  for  you  hinder  him  like  it  will 
hinder  you.  Don't  you  know  men  and  us  is  dif- 
ferent when  it  comes  to  passion  ?  We're  all  one 
thing  then,  but  they  ain't  simple.  They  keep 
along  with  lots  of  other  things.  I  can't  make 
yus  know,  and  I  guess  it  takes  a  woman  like  I 
have  been  to  learn  their  nature.  But  you  did 
know  he  loved  you,  and  you  sent  him  away,  and 
you'll  be  homeless  in  yer  house  when  he  has  done 
the  right  thing  by  himself  and  found  another 
girl.' 

"  Lin,  all  the  while  I  was  talkin'  all  I  knowed 
to  her,  without  knowin'  what  I'd  be  sayin'  next, 
for  it  come  that  unexpected,  she  was  lookin'  at 
me  with  them  steady  eyes.  And  all  she  says 
when  I  quit  was,  '  If  I  saw  him  I  would  tell  him 
to  find  a  home.'  " 

"  Didn't  she  tell  yu'  she'd  made  me  promise  to 
keep  away  from  seeing  her?"  asked  the  cow- 
puncher. 

Mrs.  Lusk  laughed.  "  Oh,  you  innocent !"  said 
she. 


DESTINY   AT   DRYBONE  237 

"  She  said  if  I  came  she  would  leave  Separ," 
muttered  McLean,  brooding. 

Again  the  large  woman  laughed  out,  but  more 
harshly. 

"  I  have  kept  my  promise,"  Lin  continued. 

"  Keep  it  some  more.  Sit  here  rotting  in  your 
chair  till  she  goes  away.  Maybe  she's  gone." 

"  What's  that  ?"  said  Lin.  But  still  she  only 
laughed  harshly.  "  I  could  be  there  by  to-morrow 
night,"  he  murmured.  Then  his  face  softened. 
"  She  would  never  do  such  a  thing  !"  he  said,  to 
himself. 

He  had  forgotten  the  woman  at  the  table. 
While  she  had  told  him  matters  that  concerned 
him  he  had  listened  eager-ly.  Now  she  was  of  no 
more  interest  than  she  had  been  before  her  story 
was  begun.  She  looked  at  his  eyes  as  he  sat 
thinking  and  dwelling  upon  his  sweetheart.  She 
looked  at  him,  and  a  longing  welled  up  into  her 
face.  A  certain  youth  and  heavy  beauty  re- 
lighted the  features. 

"  You  are  the  same,  same  Lin  everyways,"  she 
said.  "  A  woman  is  too  many  for  you  still,  Lin  !" 
she  whispered. 

At  her  summons  he  looked  up  from  his  revery. 

"  Lin,  I  would  not  have  treated  you  so." 

The  caress  that  filled  her  voice  was  plain.  His 
look  met  hers  as  he  sat  quite  still,  his  arms  on 
the  table.  Then  he  took  his  turn  at  laughing. 

"You  !"  he  said.  "At  least  I've  had  plenty  of 
education  in  you." 

"  Lin,  Lin,  don't  talk  that  brutal  to  me  to-day. 
If  yus  knowed  how  near  I  come  shooting  myself 
with  '  Neighbor.'  That  would  have  been  funny  ! 


238  LIN  MCLEAN 

I  knowed  yus  wanted  to  tear  that  pistol  out  of 
my  hand  because  it  was  hern.  But  yus  never  did 
such  things  to  me,  fer  there's  a  gentleman  in  you 
somewheres,  Lin.  And  yus  didn't  never  hit  me, 
not  even  when  you  come  to  know  me  well.  And 
when  I  seen  you  so  unexpected  again  to-night, 
and  you  just  the  same  old  Lin,  scaring  Lusk  with 
shooting  them  chickens,  so  comic  and  splendid,  I 
could  'a'  just  killed  Lusk  sittin'  in  the  wagon. 
Say,  Lin,  what  made  yus  do  that,  anyway  ?" 

"  I  can't  hardly  say,"  said  the  cow  -  puncher. 
"  Only  noticing  him  so  turruble  anxious  to  quit 
me — well,  a  man  acts  without  thinking." 

"  You  always  did,  Lin.  You  was  always  a 
comical  genius.  Lin,  them  were  good  times." 

"  Which  times  ?" 

"  You  know.  You  can't  tell  me  you  have  for- 
got." 

"  I  have  not  forgot  much.  What's  the  sense  in 
this?" 

"Yus  never  loved  me  !"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Shucks!" 

"  Lin,  Lin,  is  it  all  over  ?  You  know  yus  loved 
me  on  Bear  Creek.  Say  you  did.  Only  say  it 
was  once  that  way."  And  as  he  sat,  she  came 
and  put  her  arms  round  his  neck.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  did  not  move,  letting  himself  be  held  ; 
and  then  she  kissed  him.  The  plates  crashed  as 
he  beat  and  struck  her  down  upon  the  table.  He 
was  on  his  feet,  cursing  himself.  As  he  went  out 
of  the  door,  she  lay  where  she  had  fallen  beneath 
his  fist,  looking  after  him  and  smiling. 

McLean  walked  down  Box  Elder  Creek  through 
the  trees  toward  the  stable,  where  Lusk  had 


DESTINY   AT   DRYBONE  239 

gone  to  put  the  horse  in  the  wagon.  Once  he 
leaned  his  hand  against  a  big  cotton-wood,  and 
stood  still  with  half-closed  eyes.  Then  he  con- 
tinued on  his  way.  "  Lusk  !"  he  called,  presently, 
and  in  a  few  steps  more,  "  Lusk  !"  Then,  as  he 
came  slowly  out  of  the  trees  to  meet  the  hus- 
band he  began,  with  quiet  evenness,  "  Your  wife 
wants  to  know — "  But  he  stopped.  No  husband 
was  there.  Wagon  and  horse  were  not  there. 
The  door  was  shut.  The  bewildered  cow-puncher 
looked  up  the  stream  where  the  road  went,  and 
he  looked  down.  Out  of  the  sky  where  daylight 
and  stars  were  faintly  shining  together  sounded 
the  long  cries  of  the  night  hawks  as  they  sped 
and  swooped  to  their  hunting  in  the  dusk.  From 
among  the  trees  by  the  stream  floated  a  cooler 
air,  and  distant  and  close  by  sounded  the  plash- 
ing water.  About  the  meadow  where  Lin  stood 
his  horses  fed,  quietly  crunching.  He  went  to 
the  door,  looked  in,  and  shut  it  again.  He  walked 
to  his  shed  and  stood  contemplating  his  own 
wagon  alone  there.  Then  he  lifted  away  a  piece 
of  trailing  vine  from  the  gate  of  the  corral,  while 
the  turkeys  moved  their  heads  and  watched  him 
from  the  roof.  A  rope  was  hanging  from  the 
corral,  and  seeing  it,  he  dropped  the  vine.  He 
opened  the  corral  gate,  and  walked  quickly  back 
into  the  middle  of  the  field,  where  the  horses  saw 
him  and  his  rope,  and  scattered.  But  he  ran  and 
herded  them,  whirling  the  rope,  and  so  drove 
them  into  the  corral,  and  flung  his  noose  over 
two.  He  dragged  two  saddles — men's  saddles — 
from  the  stable,  and  next  he  was  again  at  his 
cabin  door  with  the  horses  saddled.  She  was  sit- 


240  LIN    McLEAN 

ting  quite  still  by  the  table  where  she  had  sat 
during  the  meal,  nor  did  she  speak  or  move  when 
she  saw  him  look  in  at  the  door. 

"  Lusk  has  gone,"  said  he.  "  I  don't  know  what 
he  expected  you  would  do,  or  I  would  do.  But 
we  will  catch  him  before  he  gets  to  Drybone." 

She  looked  at  him  with  her  dumb  stare. 
"Gone?"  she  said. 

"Get  up  and  ride,"  said  McLean.  "You  are 
going  to  Drybone." 

"  Drybone  ?"  she  echoed.  Her  voice  was  tone- 
less and  dull. 

He  made  no  more  explanations  to  her,  but 
went  quickly  about  the  cabin.  Soon  he  had  set 
it  in  order,  the  dishes  on  their  shelves,  the  table 
clean,  the  fire  in  the  stove  arranged  ;  and  all 
these  movements  she  followed  with  a  sort  of 
blank  mechanical  patience.  He  made  a  small 
bundle  for  his  own  journey,  tied  it  behind  his 
saddle,  brought  her  horse  beside  a  stump.  When 
at  his  sharp  order  she  came  out,  he  locked  his 
cabin  and  hung  the  key  by  a  window,  where 
travellers  could  find  it  and  be  at  home. 

She  stood  looking  where  her  husband  had  slunk 
off.  Then  she  laughed.  "  It's  about  his  size,"  she 
murmured. 

Her  old  lover  helped  her  in  silence  to  mount 
into  the  man's  saddle — this  they  had  often  done 
together  in  former  years — and  so  they  took  their 
way  down  the  silent  road.  They  had  not  many 
miles  to  go,  and  after  the  first  two  lay  behind 
them,  when  the  horses  were  limbered  and  had 
been  put  to  a  canter,  they  made  time  quickly. 
They  had  soon  passed  out  of  the  trees  and  past- 


DESTINY   AT    £;RYBONE  241 

ures  of  Box  Elder  and  came  among  the  vast  low 
stretches  of  the  greater  valley.  Not  even  by  day 
was  the  river's  course  often  discernible  through 
the  ridges  and  cheating  sameness  of  this  wilder- 
ness ;  and  beneath  this  half-darkness  of  stars  and 
a  quarter  moon  the  sage  spread  shapeless  to  the 
looming  mountains,  or  to  nothing. 

"  I  will  ask  you  one  thing,"  said  Lin,  after  ten 
miles. 

The  woman  made  no  sign  of  attention  as  she 
rode  beside  him. 

"  Did  I  understand  that  she — Miss  Buckner,  I 
mean — mentioned  she  might  be  going  away  from 
Separ  ?" 

"  How  do  I  know  what  you  understood  ?" 

"  I  thought  you  said — " 

"Don't  you  bother  me,  Lin  McLean."  Her 
laugh  rang  out,  loud  and  forlorn — one  brief  burst 
that  startled  the  horses  and  that  must  have 
sounded  far  across  the  sage-brush.  "You  men 
are  rich,"  she  said. 

They  rode  on,  side  by  side,  and  saying  nothing 
after  that.  The  Drybone  road  was  a  broad  trail, 
a  worn  strip  of  bareness  going  onward  over  the 
endless  shelvings  of  the  plain,  visible  even  in  this 
light ;  and  presently,  moving  upon  its  grayness 
on  a  hill  in  front  of  them,  they  made  out  the 
wagon.  They  hastened  and  overtook  it. 

"  Put  your  carbine  down,"  said  McLean  to 
Lusk.  "It's  not  robbers.  It's  your  wife  I'm 
bringing  you."  He  spoke  very  quietly. 

The  husband  addressed  no  word  to  the  cow- 
puncher.  "  Get  in,  then,"  he  said  to  his  wife. 

"  Town's  not  far  now,"  said  Lin.  "  Maybe 
16 


242  LIN  MCLEAN 

you  would  prefer  riding  the  balance  of  the 
way  ?" 

"  I'd—"  But  the  note  of  pity  that  she  felt  in 
McLean's  question  overcame  her,  and  her  utter- 
ance choked.  She  nodded  her  head,  and  the 
three  continued  slowly  climbing  the  hill  to- 
gether. 

From  the  narrows  of  the  steep,  sandy,  weather- 
beaten  banks  that  the  road  slanted  upward 
through  for  a  while,  they  came  out  again  upon 
the  immensity  of  the  table-land.  Here,  abruptly, 
like  an  ambush,  was  the  whole  unsuspected  river 
close  below  to  their  right,  as  if  it  had  emerged 
from  the  earth.  With  a  circling  sweep  from 
somewhere  out  in  the  gloom  it  cut  in  close  to  the 
lofty  mesa  beneath  tall  clean-graded  descents  of 
sand,  smooth  as  a  railroad  embankment.  As  they 
paused  on  the  level  to  breathe  their  horses,  the 
wet  gulp  of  its  eddies  rose  to  them  through  the 
stillness.  Upstream  they  could  make  out  the 
light  of  the  Drybone  bridge,  but  not  the  bridge 
itself  ;  and  two  lights  on  the  farther  bank  showed 
where  stood  the  hog -ranch  opposite  Drybone. 
They  went  on  over  the  table-land  and  reached 
the  next  herald  of  the  town,  Drybone's  chief  his- 
torian, the  graveyard.  Beneath  its  slanting  head- 
boards and  wind-shifted  sand  lay  many  more  peo- 
ple than  lived  in  Drybone.  They  passed  by  the 
fence  of  this  shelterless  acre  on  the  hill,  and 
shoutings  and  high  music  began  to  reach  them. 
At  the  foot  of  the  hill  they  saw  the  sparse  lights 
and  shapes  of  the  town  where  ended  the  gray 
strip  of  road.  The  many  sounds — feet,  voices, 
and  music — grew  clearer,  unravelling  from  their 


DESTINY   AT   DRYBONE  243 

muffled  confusion,  and  the  fiddling  became  a  tune 
that  could  be  known." 

"  There's  a  dance  to-night,"  said  the  wife  to  the 
husband.  "  Hurry." 

He  drove  as  he  had  been  driving.  Perhaps  he 
had  not  heard  her. 

"  I'm  telling  you  to  hurry,"  she  repeated.  "  My 
new  dress  is  in  that  wagon.  There'll  be  folks 
to  welcome  me  here  that's  older  friends  than 
you." 

She  put  her  horse  to  a  gallop  down  the  broad 
road  toward  the  music  and  the  older  friends. 
The  husband  spoke  to  his  horse,  cleared  his  throat 
and  spoke  louder,  cleared  his  throat  again  and 
this  time  his  sullen  voice  carried,  and  the  animal 
started.  So  Lusk  went  ahead  of  Lin  McLean, 
following  his  wife  with  the  new  dress  at  as  good 
a  pace  as  he  might.  If  he  did  not  want  her  com- 
pany, perhaps  to  be  alone  with  the  cow-puncher 
was  .still  less  to  his  mind. 

"It  ain't  only  her  he's  stopped  caring  for," 
mused  Lin,  as  he  rode  slowly  along.  "  He  don't 
care  for  himself  any  more." 


Ill 

To-day,  Drybone  has  altogether  returned  to 
the  dust.  Even  in  that  day  its  hour  could  have 
been  heard  beginning  to  sound,  but  its  inhabi- 
tants were  rather  deaf.  Gamblers,  saloon-keep- 
ers, murderers,  outlaws  male  and  female,  all  were 
so  busy  with  their  cards,  their  lovers,  and  their 
bottles  as  to  make  the  place  seem  young  and 


244  LIN    McLEAN 

vigorous  ;  but  it  was  second  childhood  which  had 
set  in. 

Drybone  had  known  a  wholesome  adventurous 
youth,  where  manly  lives  and  deaths  were  plenty. 
It  had  been  an  army  post.  It  had  seen  horse  and 
foot,  and  heard  the  trumpet.  Brave  wives  had 
kept  house  for  their  captains  upon  its  bluffs. 
Winter  and  summer  they  had  made  the  best  of 
it.  When  the  War  Department  ordered  the  cap- 
tains to  catch  Indians,  the  wives  bade  them  God- 
speed. When  the  Interior  Department  ordered 
the  captains  to  let  the  Indians  go  again,  still  they 
made  the  best  of  it.  You  must  not  waste  Indians. 
Indians  were  a  source  of  revenue  to  so  many  peo- 
ple in  Washington  and  elsewhere.  But  the  proc- 
ess of  catching  Indians,  armed  with  weapons  sold 
them  by  friends  of  the  Interior  Department,  was 
not  entirely  harmless.  Therefore  there  came  to 
be  graves  in  the  Drybone  graveyard.  The  pale 
weather  -  washed  head  -  boards  told  all  about  it : 
"  Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Private  So-and-So, 
killed  on  the  Dry  Cheyenne,  May  6,  1875."  Or 
it  would  be,  "  Mrs.  So-and-So,  found  scalped  on 
Sage  Creek."  But  even  the  financiers  at  Wash- 
ington could  not  wholly  preserve  the  Indian  in 
Drybone's  neighborhood.  As  the  cattle  by  ten 
thousands  came  treading  with  the  next  step  of 
civilzation  into  this  huge  domain,  the  soldiers 
were  taken  away.  Some  of  them  went  West  to 
fight  more  Indians  in  Idaho,  Oregon,  or  Arizona. 
The  battles  of  the  others  being  done,  they  went 
East  in  better  coffins  to  sleep  where  their  mothers 
or  their  comrades  wanted  them.  Though  wind 
and  rain  wrought  changes  upon  the  hill,  the 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  245 

ready-made  graves  and  boxes  which  these  sol- 
diers left  behind  proved  heirlooms  as  serviceable 
in  their  way  as  were  the  tenements  that  the 
living  had  bequeathed  to  Drybone.  Into  these 
empty  barracks  came  to  dwell  and  do  business 
every  joy  that  made  the  cow-puncher's  holiday, 
and  every  hunted  person  who  was  baffling  the 
sheriff.  For  the  sheriff  must  stop  outside  the  line 
of  Drybone,  as  shall  presently  be  made  clear. 
The  captain's  quarters  were  a  saloon  now ;  pro- 
fessional cards  were  going  in  the  adjutant's  office 
night  and  day  ;  and  the  commissary  building 
made  a  good  dance-hall  and  hotel.  Instead  of 
guard-mounting,  you  would  see  a  horse-race  on 
the  parade-ground,  and  there  was  no  provost- 
sergeant  to  gather  up  the  broken  bottles  and  old 
boots.  Heaps  of  these  choked  the  rusty  foun- 
tain^ In  the  tufts  of  yellow,  ragged  grass  that 
dotted  the  place  plentifully  were  lodged  many 
aces  and  queens  and  ten-spots,  which  the  Dry- 
bone  wind  had  blown  wide  from  the  doors  out  of 
which  they  had  been  thrown  when  a  new  pack 
was  called  for  inside.  Among  the  grass  tufts 
would  lie  visitors  who  had  applied  for  beds  too 
late  at  the  dance -hall,  frankly  sleeping  their 
whiskey  off  in  the  morning  air. 

Above,  on  the  hill,  the  graveyard  quietly 
chronicled  this  new  epoch  of  Drybone.  So-and- 
so  was  seldom  killed  very  far  out  of  town,  and 
of  course  scalping  had  disappeared.  "Sacred 
to  the  memory  of  Four  -  ace  Johnston,  acci- 
dently  shot,  Sep.  4,  1885."  Perhaps  one  is  still 
there  unaltered :  u  Sacred  to  the  memory  of 
Mrs.  Ryan's  babe.  Aged  two  months."  This 


246  LIN  MCLEAN 

unique  corpse  had  succeeded  in  dying  with  its 
boots  off. 

But  a  succession  of  graves  was  not  always 
needed  to  read  the  changing  tale  of  the  place, 
and  how  people  died  there  ;  one  grave  would  often 
be  enough.  The  soldiers,  of  course,  had  kept  tree- 
less Drybone  supplied  with  wood.  But  in  these 
latter  days  wood  was  very  scarce.  None  grew 
nearer  than  twenty  or  thirty  miles — none,  that  is, 
to  make  boards  of  a  sufficient  width  for  epitaphs. 
And  twenty  miles  was  naturally  far  to  go  to  hew 
a  board  for  a  man  of  whom  you  knew  perhaps 
nothing  but  what  he  said  his  name  was,  and  to 
whom  you  owed  nothing,  perhaps,  but  a  trifling 
poker  debt.  Hence  it  came  to  pass  that  head- 
boards grew  into  a  sort  of  directory.  They  were 
light  to  lift  from  one  place  to  another.  A  single 
coat  of  white  paint  would  wipe  out  the  first  ten- 
ant's name  sufficiently  to  paint  over  it  the  next 
comer's.  By  this  thrifty  habit  the  original  boards 
belonging  to  the  soldiers  could  go  round,  keeping 
pace  with  the  new  civilian  population  ;  and  though 
at  first  sight  you  might  be  puzzled  by  the  layers 
of  names  still  visible  beneath  the  white  paint,  you 
could  be  sure  that  the  clearest  and  blackest  was 
the  one  to  which  the  present  tenant  had  an- 
swered. 

So  there  on  the  hill  lay  the  graveyard,  steadily 
writing  Drybone's  history,  and  making  that  his- 
tory lay  the  town  at  the  bottom — one  thin  line  of 
houses  framing  three  sides  of  the  old  parade- 
ground.  In  these  slowly  rotting  shells  people 
rioted,  believing  the  golden  age  was  here,  the 
age  when  everybody  should  have  money  and  no- 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  247 

body  should  be  arrested.  For  Drybone  soil,  you 
see,  was  still  government  soil,  not  yet  handed 
over  to  Wyoming;  and  only  government  could 
arrest  there,  and  only  for  government  crimes. 
But  government  had  gone,  and  seldom  worried 
Drybone!  The  spot  was  a  postage -stamp  of 
sanctuary  pasted  in  the  middle  of  Wyoming's  big 
map,  a  paradise  for  the  Four -ace  Johnstons. 
Only,  you  must  not  steal  a  horse.  That  was 
really  wicked,  and  brought  you  instantly  to  the 
notice  of  Dry  bone's  one  official  —  the  coroner  ! 
For  they  did  keep  a  coroner — Judge  Slagham- 
mer.  He  was  perfectly  illegal,  and  lived  next 
door  in  Albany  County.  But  that  county  paid 
fees  and  mileage  to  keep  tally  of  Drybone's  cas- 
ualties. His  wife  owned  the  dance-hall,  and  be- 
tween their  industries  they  made  out  a  living. 
And  all  the  citizens  made  out  a  living.  The 
happy  cow-punchers  on  ranches  far  and  near  still 
earned  and  instantly  spent  the  high  wages  still 
paid  them.  With  their  bodies  full  of  youth  and 
their  pockets  full  of  gold,  they  rode  into  town  by 
twenties,  by  fifties,  and  out  again  next  morning, 
penniless  always  and  happy.  And  then  the  Four- 
ace  Johnstons  would  sit  card-playing  with  each 
other  till  the  innocents  should  come  to  town 
again. 

To-night  the  innocents  had  certainly  come  to 
town,  and  Drybone  was  furnishing  to  them  all  its 
joys.  Their  many  horses  stood  tied  at  every  post 
and  corner — patient,  experienced  cow-ponies,  well 
knowing  it  was  an  all-night  affair.  The  talk  and 
laughter  of  the  riders  was  in  the  saloons  ;  they 
leaned  joking  over  the  bars,  they  sat  behind  their 


248  LIN  MCLEAN 

cards  at  the  tables,  they  strolled  to  the  post-trad- 
er's to  buy  presents  for  their  easy  sweethearts, 
their  boots  were  keeping  audible  time  with  the 
fiddle  at  Mrs.  Slaghammer's.  From  the  multi- 
tude and  vigor  of  the  sounds  there,  the  dance  was 
being  done  regularly.  "  Regularly  "  meant  that 
upon  the  conclusion  of  each  set  the  gentleman 
led  his  lady  to  the  bar  and  invited  her  to  choose ; 
and  it  was  also  regular  that  the  lady  should  choose. 
Beer  and  whiskey  were  the  alternatives. 

Lin  McLean's  horse  took  him  across  the  square 
without  guiding  from  the  cow-puncher,  who  sat 
absently  with  his  hands  folded  upon  the  horn  of 
his  saddle.  This  horse,  too,  was  patient  and  ex- 
perienced, and  could  not  know  what  remote 
thoughts  filled  his  master's  mind.  He  looked 
around  to  see  why  his  master  did  not  get  off 
lightly,  as  he  had  done  during  so  many  gallant 
years,  and  hasten  in  to  the  conviviality.  But  the 
lonely  cow-puncher  sat  mechanically  identifying 
the  horses  of  acquaintances. 

"  Toothpick  Kid  is  here,"  said  he,  "  and  Limber 
Jim,  and  the  Doughie.  You'd  think  he'd  stay 
away  after  the  trouble  he —  I  expect  that  pinto 
is  Jerky  Bill's." 

"  Go  home  !"  said  a  hearty  voice. 

McLean  eagerly  turned.  For  the  moment  his 
face  lighted  from  its  sombreness.  "  I'd  forgot 
you'd  be  here,"  said  he.  And  he  sprang  to  the 
ground.  "  It's  fine  to  see  you." 

"  Go  home  I"  repeated  the  Governor  of  Wyo- 
ming, shaking  his  ancient  friend's  hand.  "  You 
in  Drybone  to-night,  and  claim  you're  reformed  ? 
Fie  !" 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  249 

"  Yu'  seem  to  be  on  hand  yourself,"  said  the 
cow-puncher,  bracing  to  be  jocular,  if  he  could. 

"  Me  !  I've  gone  fishing.  Don't  you  read  the 
papers  ?  If  we  poor  governors  can't  lock  up  the 
State  House  and  take  a  whirl  now  and  then — " 

"  Doc,"  interruped  Lin,  "  it's  plumb  fine  to  see 
yu'  !"  Again  he  shook  hands. 

"Why,  yes!  we've  met  here  before,  you  and  I." 
His  Excellency  the  Hon.  Amory  W.  Barker,  M.D., 
stood  laughing,  familiar  and  genial,  his  sound 
white  teeth  shining.  But  behind  his  round  spec- 
tacles he  scrutinized  McLean.  For  in  this  second 
hand-shaking  was  a  fervor  that  seemed  a  grasp, 
a  reaching  out,  for  comfort.  Barker  had  passed 
through  Separ.  Though  an  older  acquaintance 
than  Billy,  he  had  asked  Jessamine  fewer  and  dif- 
ferent questions.  But  he  knew  what  he  knew. 
"  Well,  Drybone's  the  same  old  Drybone,"  said  he. 
"Sweet-scented  hole  of  iniquity!  Let's  see  how 
you  walk  nowadays." 

Lin  took  a  few  steps. 

"  Pooh  !  I  said  you'd  never  get  over  it."  And 
his  Excellency  beamed  with  professional  pride. 
In  his  doctor  days  Barker  had  set  the  boy  Mc- 
Lean's leg ;  and  before  it  was  properly  knit  the 
boy  had  escaped  from  the  hospital  to  revel  loose 
in  Drybone  on  such  another  night  as  this.  Soon 
he  had  been  carried  back,  with  the  fracture  split 
open  again. 

"It  shows,  does  it?"  said  Lin.  "Well,  it  don't 
usually.  Not  except  when  I'm — when  I'm — " 

"  Down  ?"  suggested  his  Excellency. 

"  Yes,  Doc.   Down,"  the  cow-puncher  confessed. 

Barker  looked  into  his  friend's  clear  hazel  eyes. 


250  LIN  MCLEAN 

Beneath  their  dauntless  sparkle  was  something 
that  touched  the  Governor's  good  heart.  "  I've 
got  some  whiskey  along  on  the  trip  —  Eastern 
whiskey,"  said  he.  "  Come  over  to  my  room 
awhile." 

"  I  used  to  sleep  all  night  onced,"  said  McLean, 
as  they  went.  "  Then  I  come  to  know  different. 
But  I'd  never  have  believed  just  mere  thoughts 
could  make  yu'  —  make  yu'  feel  like  the  steam 
was  only  half  on.  I  eat,  yu'  know  !"  he  stated, 
suddenly.  "And  I  expect  one  or  two.  in  camp 
lately  have  not  found  my  muscle  lacking.  Feel 
me,  Doc." 

Barker  dutifully  obeyed,  and  praised  the  ex- 
cellent sinews. 

Across  from  the  dance-hall  the  whining  of  the 
fiddle  came,  high  and  gay  ;  feet  blurred  the  talk 
of  voices,  and  voices  rose  above  the  trampling  of 
feet.  Here  and  there  some  lurking  form  stum- 
bled through  the  dark  among  the  rubbish  ;  and 
clearest  sound  of  all,  the  light  crack  of  billiard- 
balls  reached  dry  and  far  into  the  night.  Barker 
contemplated  the  stars  and  calm  splendid  dimness 
of  the  plain.  "  *  Though  every  prospect  pleases, 
and  only  man  is  vile,'  "  he  quoted.  "  But  don't 
tell  the  Republican  party  I  said  so." 

"  It's  awful  true,  though,  Doc.  I'm  vile  myself. 
Yu'  don't  know.  Why,  /didn't  know  !" 

And  then  they  sat  down  to  confidences  and 
whiskey;  for  so  long  as  the  world  goes  round  a 
man  must  talk  to  a  man  sometimes,  and  both 
must  drink  over  it.  The  cow-puncher  unburdened 
himself  to  the  Governor;  and  the  Governor  filled 
up  his  friend's  glass  with  the  Eastern  whiskey, 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  251 

and  nodded  his  spectacles,  and  listened,  and  ad- 
vised, and  said  he  should  have  done  the  same,  and 
like  the  good  Governor  that  he  was,  never  remem- 
bered he  was  Governor  at  all  with  political  friends 
here  who  had  begged  a  word  or  two.  He  became 
just  Dr.  Barker  again,  the  young  hospital  surgeon 
(the  hospital  that  now  stood  a  ruin),  and  Lin  was 
again  his  patient — Lin,  the  sun-burnt  free-lance 
of  nineteen,  reckless,  engaging,  disobedient,  his 
leg  broken  and  his  heart  light,  with  no  Jessamine 
or  conscience  to  rob  his  salt  of  its  savor.  While 
he  now  told  his  troubles,  the  quadrilles  riddled 
away  careless  as  ever,  and  the  crack  of  the  billiard- 
balls  sounded  as  of  old. 

"  Nobody  has  told  you  about  this,  I  expect," 
said  the  lover.  He  brought  forth  the  little  pistol, 
"  Neighbor."  He  did  not  hand  it  across  to  Bar- 
ker, but  walked  over  to  Barker's  chair,  and  stood 
holding  it  for  the  doctor  to  see.  When  Barker 
reached  for  it  to  see  better,  since  it  was  half  hid- 
den in  the  cow-puncher's  big  hand,  Lin  yielded  it 
to  him,  but  still  stood  and  soon  drew  it  back. 
"I  take  it  around,"  he  said,  "and  when  one  of 
those  stories  comes  along,  like  there's  plenty  of, 
that  she  wants  to  get  rid  of  me,  I  just  kind  o'  take 
a  look  at  *  Neighbor '  when  I'm  off  where  it's 
handy,  and  it  busts  the  story  right  out  of  my 
mind.  I  have  to  tell  you  what  a  fool  I  am." 

"  The  whiskey's  your  side,"  said  Barker.  "  Go 
on." 

"  But,  Doc,  my  courage  has  quit  me.  They  see 
what  I'm  thinking  about  just  like  I  was  a  tender- 
foot trying  his  first  bluff.  I  can't  stick  it  out  no 
more,  and  I'm  going  to  see  her,  come  what  will. 


252  LIN  MCLEAN 

I've  got  to.  I'm  going  to  ride  right  up  to  her 
window  and  shoot  off  *  Neighbor,'  and  if  she  don't 
come  out  I'll  know — " 

A  knocking  came  at  the  Governor's  room,  and 
Judge  Slaghammer  entered.  "Not  been  to  our 
dance,  Governor  ?"  said  he. 

The  Governor  thought  that  perhaps  he  was 
tired,  that  perhaps  this  evening  he  must  forego 
the  pleasure. 

"  It  may  be  wiser.  In  your  position  it  may  be 
advisable,"  said  the  coroner.  "  They're  getting 
on  rollers  over  there.  We  do  not  like  trouble 
in  Drybone,  but  trouble  comes  to  us — as  every- 
where." 

"  Shooting,"  suggested  his  Excellency,  recalling 
his  hospital  practice. 

"Well,  Governor,  you  know  how  it  is.  Our 
boys  are  as  big-hearted  as  any  in  this  big-hearted 
Western  country.  You  know,  Governor.  Those 
generous,  warm-blooded  spirits  are  ever  ready  for 
anything." 

"  Especially  after  Mrs.  Slaghammer's  whiskey," 
remarked  the  Governor. 

The  coroner  shot  a  shrewd  eye  at  Wyoming's 
chief  executive.  It  was  not  politically  harmoni- 
ous to  be  reminded  that  but  for  his  wife's  liquor 
a  number  of  fine  young  men,  with  nothing  save 
youth  untrained  and  health  the  matter  with  them, 
would  to-day  be  riding  their  horses  instead  of 
sleeping  on  the  hill.  But  the  coroner  wanted  sup- 
port in  the  next  campaign.  "  Boys  will  be  boys," 
said  he.  "They  ain't  pulled  any  guns  to-night. 
But  I  come  away,  though.  Some  of  'em's  making 
up  pretty  free  to  Mrs.  Lusk.  It  ain't  suitable  for 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  253 

me  to  see  too  much.  Lusk  says  he's  after  you," 
he  mentioned  incidentally  to  Lin.  "  He's  fillin' 
up,  and  says  he's  after  you."  McLean  nodded 
placidly,  and  with  scant  politeness.  He  wished 
this  visitor  would  go.  But  Judge  Slaghammer 
had  noticed  the  whiskey.  He  filled  himself  a 
glass.  "  Governor,  it  has  my  compliments,"  said 
he.  "  Ambrosier.  Honey-doo." 

"  Mrs.  Slaghammer  seems  to  have  a  large  gather- 
ing," said  Barker. 

"  Good  boys,  good  boys  !"  The  judge  blew  im- 
portantly, and  waved  his  arm.  "  Bull-whackers, 
cow-punchers,  mule  -  skinners,  tin -horns.  All 
spending  generous.  Governor,  once  more  !  Am- 
brosier. Honey-doo."  He  settled  himself  deep  in 
a  chair,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

McLean  rose  abruptly.  "  Good-night,"  said  he. 
"  I'm  going  to  Separ." 

"  Separ !"  exclaimed  Slaghammer,  rousing 
slightly.  "  Oh,  stay  with  us,  stay  with  us."  He 
closed  his  eyes  again,  but  sustained  his  smile  of 
office. 

"  You  know  how  well  I  wish  you,"  said  Barker 
to  Lin.  "I'll  just  see  you  start." 

Forthwith  the  friends  left  the  coroner  quiet 
beside  his  glass,  and  walked  toward  the  horses 
through  Drybone's  gaping  quadrangle.  The  dead 
ruins  loomed  among  the  lights  of  the  card-halls, 
and  always  the  keen  jockey  cadences  of  the  fid- 
dle sang  across  the  night.  But  a  calling  and 
confusion  were  set  up,  and  the  tune  broke  off. 

"  Just  like  old  times !"  said  his  Excellency. 
"  Where's  the  dump-pile  !"  It  was  where  it  should 
be,  close  by,  and  the  two  stepped  behind  it  to  be 


254  LIN  MCLEAN 

screened  from  wandering  bullets.  "  A  man  don't 
forget  his  habits,"  declared  the  Governor.  "  Makes 
me  feel  young  again." 

"  Makes  me  feel  old,"  said  McLean.    "  Hark  !" 

"  Sounds  like  my  name,"  said  Barker.  They 
listened.  <<rOhyes.  Of  course.  That's  it.  They're 
shouting  for  the  doctor.  But  we'll  just  spare 
them  a  minute  or  so  to  finish  their  excitement." 

"I  didn't  hear  any  shooting,"  said  McLean. 
"  It's  something,  though." 

As  they  waited,  no  shots  came  ;  but .  still  the 
fiddle  was  silent,  and  the  murmur  of  many  voices 
grew  in  the  dance-hall,  while  single  voices  wan- 
dered outside,  calling  the  doctor's  name. 

"  I'm  the  Governor  on  a  fishing-trip,"  said  he. 
"  But  it's  to  be  done,  I  suppose." 

They  left  their  dump-hill  and  proceeded  over 
to  the  dance.  The  musician  sat  high  and  soli- 
tary upon  two  starch-boxes,  fiddle  on  knee,  star- 
ing and  waiting.  Half  the  floor  was  bare ;  on 
the  other  half  the  revellers  were  densely  clotted. 
At  the  crowd's  outer  rim  the  young  horsemen, 
flushed  and  swaying,  retained  their  gaudy  dance 
partners  strongly  by  the  waist,  to  be  ready  when 
the  music  should  resume.  "What  is  it?"  they 
asked.  "Who  is  it?"  And  they  looked  in  across 
heads  and  shoulders,  inattentive  to  the  caresses 
which  the  partners  gave  them. 

Mrs.  Lusk  was  who  it  was,  and  she  had  taken 
poison  here  in  their  midst,  after  many  dances  and 
drinks. 

"  Here's  Doc  !"  cried  an  older  one. 

"  Here's  Doc  !"  chorused  the  young  blood  that 
had  come  into  this  country  since  his  day.  And 


DESTINY   AT   DRYBONE  255 

the  throng  caught  up  the  words  :  "  Here's  Doc  ! 
here's  Doc !" 

In  a  moment  McLean  and  Barker  were  sundered 
from  each  other  in  this  flood.  Barker,  sucked  in 
toward  the  centre  but  often  eddied  back  by  those 
who  meant  to  help  him,  heard  the  mixed  expla- 
nations pass  his  ear  unfinished — versions,  contra- 
dictions, a  score  of  facts.  It  had  been  wolf-poison. 
It  had  been  "  Rough  on  Rats."  It  had  been  some- 
thing in  a  bottle.  There  was  little  steering  in 
this  clamorous  sea  ;  but  Barker  reached  his  pa- 
tient, where  she  sat  in  her  new  dress,  hailing  him 
with  wild  inebriate  gayety. 

"  I  must  get  her  to  her  room,  friends,"  said  he. 

"  He  must  get  her  to  her  room,"  went  the  word. 
"  Leave  Doc  get  her  to  her  room."  And  they 
tangled  in  their  eagerness  around  him  and  his 
patient. 

"  Give  us  '  Buffalo  Girls  !'  "  shouted  Mrs.  Lusk. 
.  .  .  " '  Buffalo  Girls,'  you  fiddler  !" 

"  We'll  come  back,"  said  Barker  to  her. 

" '  Buffalo  Girls,'  I  tell  yus.  Ho  !  There's  no 
sense  looking  at  that  bottle,  Doc.  Take  yer 
dance  while  there's  time  !"  She  was  holding  the 
chair. 

"  Help  him  !"  said  the  crowd.     "  Help  Doc." 

They  took  her  from  her  chair,  and  she  fought,  a 
big  pink  mass  of  ribbons,  fluttering  and  wrench- 
ing itself  among  them. 

"  She  has  six  ounces  of  laudanum  in  her,"  Barker 
told  them  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  "  It  won't  wait 
all  night." 

"I'm  a  whirlwind!"  said  Mrs.  Lusk.  "That's 
my  game  !  And  you  done  your  share,"  she  cried 


256  LIN  MCLEAN 

to  the  fiddler.  "  Here's  my  regards,  old  man  ! 
*  Buffalo  Girls'  once  more  !" 

She  flung  out  her  hand,  and  from  it  fell  notes 
and  coins,  rolling  and  ringing  around  the  starch- 
boxes.  Some  dragged  her  on,  while  some  fiercely 
forbade  the  musician  to  touch  the  money,  because 
it  was  hers,  and  she  would  want  it  when  she  came 
to.  Thus  they  gathered  it  up  for  her.  But  now 
she  had  sunk  down,  asking  in  a  new  voice  where 
was  Lin  McLean.  And  when  one  grinning  inti- 
mate reminded  her  that  Lusk  had  gone  to  shoot 
him,  she  laughed  out  richly,  and  the  crowd  joined 
her  mirth.  But  even  in  the  midst  of  the  joke  she 
asked  again  in  the  same  voice  where  was  Lin  Mc- 
Lean. He  came  beside  her  among  more  jokes. 
He  had  kept  himself  near,  and  now  at  sight  of 
him  she  reached  out  and  held  him.  "  Tell  them 
to  leave  me  go  to  sleep,  Lin,"  said  she. 

Barker  saw  a  chance.  "  Persuade  her  to  come 
along,"  said  he  to  McLean.  "  Minutes  are  count- 
ing now." 

"  Oh,  I'll  come,"  she  said,  with  a  laugh,  over- 
hearing him,  and  holding  still  to  Lin. 

The  rest  of  the  old  friends  nudged  each  other. 
"  Back  seats  for  us,"  they  said.  "  But  we've  had  our 
turn  in  front  ones."  Then,  thinking  they  would  be 
useful  in  encouraging  her  to  walk,  they  clustered 
again,  rendering  Barker  and  McLean  once  more 
wellnigh  helpless.  Clumsily  the  escort  made  its 
slow  way  across  the  quadrangle,  cautioning  itself 
about  stones  and  holes.  Thus,  presently,  she  was 
brought  into  the  room.  The  escort  set  her  down, 
crowding  the  little  place  as  thick  as  it  would  hold  ; 
the  rest  gathered  thick  at  the  door,  and  all  of  them 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  257 

had  no  thought  of  departing.  The  notion  to  stay 
was  plain  on  their  faces. 

Barker  surveyed  them.  "  Give  the  doctor  a  show 
now,  boys,"  said  he.  "You've  done  it  all  so  far. 
Don't  crowd  my  elbows.  I'll  want  you,"  he  whis- 
pered to  McLean. 

At  the  argument  of  fair-play,  obedience  swept 
over  them  like  a  veering  of  wind.  "  Don't  crowd 
his  elbows,"  they  began  to  say  at  once,  and  told 
each  other  to  come  away.  "  We'll  sure  give  the 
Doc  room.  You  don't  want  to  be  shovin'  your 
auger  in,  Chalkeye.  You  want  to  get  yourself 
pretty  near  absent."  The  room  thinned  of  them 
forthwith.  "  Fix  her  up  good,  Doc,"  they  said, 
over  their  shoulders.  They  shuffled  across  the 
threshold  and  porch  with  roundabout  schemes  to 
tread  quietly.  When  one  or  other  stumbled  on 
the  steps  and  fell,  he  was  jerked  to  his  feet.  "  You 
want  to  tame  yourself,"  was  the  word.  Then,  sud- 
denly, Chalkeye  and  Toothpick  Kid  came  precipi- 
tately back.  "  Her  cash,"  they  said.  And  leaving 
the  notes  and  coins,  they  hastened  to  catch  their 
comrades  on  the  way  back  to  the  dance. 

"I  want  you,"  repeated  Barker  to  McLean. 

"  Him !"  cried  Mrs.  Lusk,  flashing  alert  again. 
"Jessamine  wants  him  about  now,  I  guess.  Don't 
keep  him  from  his  girl !"  And  she  laughed  her 
hard,  rich  laugh,  looking  from  one  to  the  other. 
"  Not  the  two  of  yus  can't  save  me,"  she  stated, 
defiantly.  But  even  in  these  last  words  a  sort  of 
thickness  sounded. 

"  Walk  her  up  and  down,"  said  Barker.  "  Keep 
her  moving.  I'll  look  what  I  can  find.  Keep  her 
moving  brisk."  At  once  he  was  out  of  the  door ; 
17 


258  LIN  MCLEAN 

and  before  his  running  steps  had  died  away,  the 
fiddle  had  taken  up  its  tune  across  the  quad- 
rangle. 

" '  Buffalo  Girls  !'  "  exclaimed  the  woman.  "  Old 
times  !  Old  times  !" 

"  Come,"  said  McLean.  "Walk."  And  he  took 
her. 

Her  head  was  full  of  the  music.  Forgetting  all 
but  that,  she  went  with  him  easily,  and  the  two 
made  their  first  turns  around  the  room.  When- 
ever he  brought  her  near  the  entrance,  she  leaned 
away  from  him  toward  the  open  door,  where  the 
old  fiddle  tune  was  coming  in  from  the  dark. 
But  presently  she  noticed  that  she  was  being  led, 
and  her  face  turned  sullen. 

"  Walk,"  said  McLean. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  said  she,  laughing.  But 
she  found  that  she  must  go  with  him.  Thus  they 
took  a  few  more  turns. 

"You're  hurting  me,"  she  said  next.  Then  a 
look  of  drowsy  cunning  filled  her  eyes,  and  she 
fixed  them  upon  McLean's  dogged  face.  "  He's 
gone,  Lin,"  she  murmured,  raising  her  hand  where 
Barker  had  disappeared. 

She  knew  McLean  had  heard  her,  and  she  held 
back  on  the  quickened  pace  that  he  had  set. 

"  Leave  me  down.  You  hurt,"  she  pleaded, 
hanging  on  him. 

The  cow-puncher  put  forth  more  strength. 

"Just  the  floor,"  she  pleaded  again.  "Just  one 
minute  on  the  floor.  He'll  think  you  could  not 
keep  me  lifted." 

Still  McLean  made  no  answer,  but  steadily  led 
her  round  and  round,  as  he  had  undertaken. 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  259 

"  He's  playing  out !"  she  exclaimed.  "  You'll 
be  played  out  soon  !"  She  laughed  herself  half- 
awake.  The  man  drew  a  breath,  and  she  laughed 
more  to  feel  his  hand  and  arm  strain  to  surmount 
her  increasing  resistance.  "Jessamine  !"  she  whis- 
pered to  him.  "  Jessamine  !  Doc  '11  never  sus- 
picion you,  Lin." 

"  Talk  sense,"  said  he. 

"  It's  sense  I'm  talking.  Leave  me  go  to  sleep. 
Ah,  ah,  I'm  going  !  I'll  go  ;  you  can't — " 

"Walk,  walk  !"  he  repeated.  He  looked  at  the 
door.  An  ache  was  numbing  his  arms. 

"  Oh  yes,  walk  !  What  can  you  and  all  your 
muscle —  Ah,  walk  me  to  glory,  then,  craziness  ! 
I'm  going  ;  I'll  go.  I'm  quitting  this  outfit  for 
keeps.  Lin,  you're  awful  handsome  to-night!  I'll 
bet — I'll  bet  she  has  never  seen  you  look  so.  Let 
me  —  let  me  watch  yus.  Anyway,  she  knows  I 
came  first !" 

He  grasped  her  savagely.  "  First !  You  and 
twenty  of  yu'  don't  —  God  !  what  do  I  talk  to 
her  for  ?" 

"  Because — because — I'm  going  ;  I'll  go.  He 
slung  me  off — but  he  had  to  sling — you  can't — 
stop — " 

Her  head  was  rolling,  while  the  lips  smiled. 
Her  words  came  through  deeper  and  deeper  veils, 
fearless,  defiant,  a  challenge  inarticulate,  a  con- 
tinuous mutter.  Again  he  looked  at  the  door  as  he 
struggled  to  move  with  her  dragging  weight.  The 
drops  rolled  on  his  forehead  and  neck,  his  shirt 
was  wet,  his  hands  slipped  upon  her  ribbons. 
Suddenly  the  drugged  body  folded  and  sank  with 
him,  pulling  him  to  his  knees.  While  he  took 


260  LIN  MCLEAN 

breath  so,  the  mutter  went  on,  and  through  the 
door  came  the  jigging  fiddle.  A  fire  of  despera- 
tion lighted  in  his  eyes.  "  Buffalo  Girls  !"  he 
shouted,  hoarsely,  in  her  ear,  and  got  once  more 
on  his  feet  with  her  as  though  they  were  two 
partners  in  a  quadrille.  Still  shouting  her  to 
wake,  he  struck  a  tottering  sort  of  step,  and  so, 
with  the  bending  load  in  his  grip,  strove  feebly 
to  dance  the  laudanum  away. 

Feet  stumbled  across  the  porch,  and  Lusk  was 
in  the  room.  "So  I've  got  you!"  he  said.  He 
had  no  weapon,  but  made  a  dive  under  the  bed 
and  came  up  with  a  carbine.  The  two  men  locked, 
wrenching  impotently,  and  fell  together.  The  car- 
bine's loud  shot  rang  in  the  room,  but  did  no  harm  ; 
and  McLean  lay  sick  and  panting  upon  Lusk  as 
Barker  rushed  in. 

"Thank  God  !"  said  he,  and  flung  Lusk's  pistol 
down.  The  man,  deranged  and  encouraged  by 
drink,  had  come  across  the  doctor,  delayed  him, 
threatened  him  with  his  pistol,  and  when  he  had 
torn  it  away,  had  left  him  suddenly  and  vanished. 
But  Barker  had  feared,  and  come  after  him  here. 
He  glanced  at  the  woman  slumbering  motionless 
beside  the  two  men.  The  husband's  brief  cour- 
age had  gone,  and  he  lay  beneath  McLean,  who 
himself  could  not  rise.  Barker  pulled  them 
apart. 

"Lin,  boy,  you're  not  hurt?"  he  asked,  affec- 
tionately, and  lifted  the  cow-puncher. 

McLean  sat  passive,  with  dazed  eyes,  letting 
himself  be  supported. 

"  You're  not  hurt  ?"  repeated  Barker. 

"No,"  answered  the  cow-puncher,  slowly.     "I 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  261 

guess  not."  He  looked  about  the  room  and  at  the 
door.  "  I  got  interrupted,"  he  said. 

"  You'll  be  all  right  soon,"  said  Barker. 

"  Nobody  cares  for  me  !"  cried  Lusk,  suddenly, 
and  took  to  querulous  weeping. 

"  Get  up,"  ordered  Barker,  sternly. 

"  Don't  accuse  me,  Governor,"  screamed  Lusk. 
"I'm  innocent."  And  he  rose. 

Barker  looked  at  the  woman  and  then  at  the 
husband.  "  I'll  not  say  there  was  much  chance 
for  her,"  he  said.  "  But  any  she  had  is  gone 
through  you.  She'll  die." 

"  Nobody  cares  for  me  !"  repeated  the  man. 
"  He  has  learned  my  boy  to  scorn  me."  He  ran 
out  aimlessly,  and  away  into  the  night,  leaving 
peace  in  the  room. 

"  Stay  sitting,"  said  Barker  to  McLean,  and 
went  to  Mrs.  Lusk. 

But  the  cow-puncher,  seeing  him  begin  to  lift 
her  toward  the  bed  without  help,  tried  to  rise. 
His  strength  was  not  sufficiently  come  back,  and 
he  sank  as  he  had  been.  "  I  guess  I  don't  amount 
to  much,"  said  he.  "  I  feel  like  I  was  nothing." 

"Well,  I'm  something,"  said  Barker,  coming 
back  to  his  friend,  out  of  breath.  "  And  I  know 
what  she  weighs."  He  stared  admiringly  through 
his  spectacles  at  the  seated  man. 

The  cow-puncher's  eyes  slowly  travelled  over 
his  body,  and  then  sought  Barker's  face.  "  Doc/' 
said  he,  "  ain't  I  young  to  have  my  nerve  quit  me 
this  way?" 

His  Excellency  broke  into  his  broad  smile. 

"  I  know  I've  racketed  some,  but  ain't  it  ruther 
early?"  pursued  McLean,  wistfully. 


262  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  You  six-foot  infant !"  said  Barker.  "  Look  at 
your  hand." 

Lin  stared  at  it  —  the  fingers  quivering  and 
bloody,  and  the  skin  grooved  raw  between  them. 
That  was  the  buckle  of  her  belt,  which  in  the 
struggle  had  worked  round  and  been  held  by  him 
unknowingly.  Both  his  wrists  and  his  shirt  were 
ribbed  with  the  pink  of  her  sashes.  He  looked 
over  at  the  bed  where  lay  the  woman  heavily 
breathing.  It  was  a  something,  a  sound,  not  like 
the  breath  of  life ;  and  Barker  saw  the  cow- 
puncher  shudder. 

"  She  is  strong,"  he  said.  "  Her  system  will 
fight  to  the  end.  Two  hours  yet,  maybe.  Queer 
world  !"  he  moralized.  "  People  half  killing  them- 
selves to  keep  one  in  it  who  wanted  to  go — and 
one  that  nobody  wanted  to  stay  !" 

McLean  did  not  hear.  He  was  musing,  his 
eyes  fixed  absently  in  front  of  him.  "  I  would 
not  want,"  he  said,  with  hesitating  utterance — 
"  I'd  not  wish  for  even  my  enemy  to  have  a 
thing  like  what  I've  had  to  do  to-night." 

Barker  touched  him  on  the  arm.  "  If  there 
had  been  another  man  I  could  trust — " 

"  Trust !"  broke  in  the  cow-puncher.  "  Why, 
Doc,  it  is  the  best  turn  yu'  ever  done  me.  I 
know  I  am  a  man  now — if  my  nerve  ain't  gone." 

"  I've  known  you  were  a  man  since  I  knew 
you  !"  said  the  hearty  Governor.  And  he  helped 
the  still  unsteady  six-foot  to  a  chair.  "As  for 
your  nerve,  I'll  bring  you  some  whiskey  now. 
And  after" — he  glanced  at  the  bed — "and  to- 
morrow you'll  go  try  if  Miss  Jessamine  won't  put 
the  nerve — " 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  263 

"Yes,  Doc,  I'll  go  there,  I  know.  But  don't 
yu' — don't  let's  while  she's —  I'm  going  to  be 
glad  about  this,  Doc,  after  awhile,  but — " 

At  the  sight  of  a  new-comer  in  the  door,  he 
stopped  in  what  his  soul  was  stammering  to 
say.  "What  do  you  want,  Judge?"  he  inquired, 
coldly. 

"  I  understand,"  began  Slaghammer  to  Barker — 
"  I  am  informed — " 

"  Speak  quieter,  Judge,"  said  the  cow-puncher. 

"I  understand,"  repeated  Slaghammer,  more 
official  than  ever,  "  that  there  was  a  case  for  the 
coroner." 

"You'll  be  notified,"  put  in  McLean  again. 
"  Meanwhile  you'll  talk  quiet  in  this  room." 

Slaghammer  turned,  and  saw  the  breathing 
mass  on  the  bed. 

"You  are  a  little  early,  Judge,"  said  Barker, 
"  but—" 

"  But  your  ten  dollars  are  safe,'*  said  McLean. 

The  coroner  shot  one  of  his  shrewd  glances  at 
the  cow-puncher,  and  sat  down  with  an  amiable 
countenance.  His  fee  was,  indeed,  ten  dollars  ; 
and  he  was  desirous  of  a  second  term. 

"  Under  the  apprehension  that  it  had  already 
occurred  —  the  misapprehension — I  took  steps 
to  impanel  a  jury,"  said  he,  addressing  both 
Barker  and  McLean.  "They  are — ah — waiting 
outside.  Responsible  men,  Governor,  and  have 
sat  before.  Drybone  has  few  responsible  men 
to-night,  but  I  procured  these  at  a  little  game 
where  they  were  —  ah  —  losing.  You  may  go 
back,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  going  to  the  door. 
"I  will  summon  you  in  proper  time."  He  looked 


264  LIN  MCLEAN 

in  the  room  again.  "  Is  the  husband  not  intend- 
ing—" 

"  That's  enough,  Judge,"  said  McLean.  "  There's 
too  many  here  without  adding  him." 

"  Judge,"  spoke  a  voice  at  the  door,  "  ain't  she 
ready  yet  ?" 

"  She  is  still  passing  away,"  observed  Slagham- 
mer,  piously. 

"  Because  I  was  thinking,"  said  the  man — "  I 
was  just —  You  see,  us  jury  is  dry  and  dead 
broke.  Doggonedest  cards  I've  held  this  year, 
and — Judge,  would  there  be  anything  out  of  the 
way  in  me  touching  my  fee  in  advance,  if  it's  a 
sure  thing?" 

"  I  see  none,  my  friend,"  said  Slaghammer, 
benevolently,  "since  it  must  be."  He  shook  his 
head  and  nodded  it  by  turns.  Then,  with  full- 
blown importance,  he  sat  again,  and  wrote  a 
paper,  his  coroner's  certificate.  Next  door,  in 
Albany  County,  these  vouchers  brought  their 
face  value  of  five  dollars  to  the  holder  ;  but  on 
Drybone's  neutral  soil  the  saloons  would  always 
pay  four  for  them,  and  it  was  rare  that  any  jury- 
man could  withstand  the  temptation  of  four  im- 
mediate dollars.  This  one  gratefully  received 
his  paper,  and,  cherishing  it  like  a  bird  in  the 
hand,  he  with  his  colleagues  bore  it  where  they 
might  wait  for  duty  and  slake  their  thirst. 

In  the  silent  room  sat  Lin  McLean,  his  body 
coming  to  life  more  readily  than  his  shaken 
spirit.  Barker,  seeing  that  the  cow  -  puncher 
meant  to  watch  until  the  end,  brought  the  whis- 
key to  him.  Slaghammer  drew  documents  from 
his  pocket  to  fill  the  time,  but  was  soon  in  slum- 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  265 

ber  over  them.  In  all  precincts  of  the  quad- 
rangle Drybone  was  keeping  it  up  late.  The 
fiddle,  the  occasional  shouts,  and  the  crack  of  the 
billiard-balls  travelled  clear  and  far  through  the 
vast  darkness  outside.  Presently  steps  unsteadily 
drew  near,  and  round  the  corner  of  the  door  a 
voice,  plaintive  and  diffident,  said,  "  Judge,  ain't 
she  most  pretty  near  ready  ?" 

"Wake  up,  Judge  !"  said  Barker.  "Your  jury 
has  gone  dry  again." 

The  man  appeared  round  the  door — a  hand- 
some, dishevelled  fellow — with  hat  in  hand,  bal- 
ancing himself  with  respectful  anxiety.  Thus 
was  a  second  voucher  made  out,  and  the  messen- 
ger strayed  back  happy  to  his  friends.  Barker 
and  McLean  sat  wakeful,  and  Slaghammer  fell 
at  once  to  napping.  From  time  to  time  he  was 
roused  by  new  messengers,  each  arriving  more 
unsteady  than  the  last,  until  every  juryman  had 
got  his  fee  and  no  more  messengers  came.  The 
coroner  slept  undisturbed  in  his  chair.  McLean 
and  Barker  sat.  On  the  bed  the  mass,  with  its 
pink  ribbons,  breathed  and  breathed,  while  moths 
flew  round  the  lamp,  tapping  and  falling  with 
light  sounds.  So  did  the  heart  of  the  darkness 
wear  itself  away,  and  through  the  stone-cold  air 
the  dawn  began  to  filter  and  expand. 

Barker  rose,  bent  over  the  bed,  and  then  stood. 
Seeing  him,  McLean  stood  also. 

"Judge,"  said  Barker,  quietly,  "you  may  call 
them  now."  And  with  careful  steps  the  judge 
got  himself  out  of  the  room  to  summon  his  jury. 

For  a  short  while  the  cow-puncher  stood  look- 
ing down  upon  the  woman.  She  lay  lumped  in 


266  LIN  MCLEAN 

her  gaudiness,  the  ribbons  darkly  stained  by  the 
laudanum  ;  but  into  the  stolid,  bold  features  death 
had  called  up  the  faint-colored  ghost  of  youth, 
and  McLean  remembered  all  his  Bear  Creek 
days.  "  Hind  sight  is  a  turruble  clear  way  o' 
seein'  things,"  said  he.  "  I  think  I'll  take  a 
walk." 

"Go,"  said  Barker.  "The  jury  only  need  me, 
and  I'll  join  you." 

But  the  jury  needed  no  witness.  Their  long 
waiting  and  the  advance  pay  had  been  too  much 
for  these  responsible  men.  Like  brothers  they 
had  shared  each  others'  vouchers  until  responsi- 
bility had  melted  from  their  brains  and  the  whis- 
key was  finished.  Then,  no  longer  entertained, 
and  growing  weary  of  Drybone,  they  had  re- 
membered nothing  but  their  distant  beds.  Each 
had  mounted  his  pony,  holding  trustingly  to  the 
saddle,  and  thus,  unguided,  the  experienced  ponies 
had  taken  them  right.  Across  the  wide  sage- 
brush and  up  and  down  the  river  they  were  now 
asleep  or  riding,  dispersed  irrevocably.  But  the 
coroner  was  here.  He  duly  received  Barker's 
testimony,  brought  his  verdict  in,  and  signed  it, 
and  even  while  he  was  issuing  to  himself  his  own 
proper  voucher  for  ten  dollars  came  Chalkeye 
and  Toothpick  Kid  on  their  ponies,  galloping, 
eager  in  their  hopes  and  good  wishes  for  Mrs. 
Lusk.  Life  ran  strong  in  them  both.  The  night 
had  gone  well  with  them.  Here  was  the  new 
day  going  to  be  fine.  It  must  be  well  with  every- 
body. 

"  You  don't  say  !"  they  exclaimed,  taken  aback. 
"Too  bad." 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  267 

They  sat  still  in  their  saddles,  and  upon  their 
reckless,  kindly  faces  thought  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment. "  Her  gone  !"  they  murmured.  "  Hard 
to  get  used  to  the  idea.  What's  anybody  doing 
about  the  coffin  ?" 

"Mr.  Lusk,"  answered  Slaghammer,  "doubt- 
less—" 

"  Lusk  !  He'll  not  know  anything  this  fore- 
noon. He's  out  there  in  the  grass.  She  didn't 
think  nothing  of  him.  Tell  Bill — not  Dollar  Bill, 
Jerky  Bill,  yu'  know  ;  he's  over  the  bridge — to 
fix  up  a  hearse,  and  we'll  be  back."  The  two 
drove  their  spurs  in  with  vigorous  heels,  and 
instantly  were  gone  rushing  up  the  road  to  the 
graveyard. 

The  fiddle  had  lately  ceased,  and  no  dancers 
stayed  any  longer  in  the  hall.  Eastward  the 
rose  and  gold  began  to  flow  down  upon  the  plain 
over  the  tops  of  the  distant  hills.  Of  the  revel- 
lers, many  had  never  gone  to  bed,  and  many  now 
were  already  risen  from  their  excesses  to  revive 
in  the  cool  glory  of  the  morning.  Some  were 
drinking  to  stay  their  hunger  until  breakfast ; 
some  splashed  and  sported  in  the  river,  calling 
and  joking ;  and  across  the  river  some  were 
holding  horse-races  upon  the  level  beyond  the 
hog-ranch.  Drybone  air  rang  with  them.  Their 
lusty,  wandering  shouts  broke  out  in  gusts  of 
hilarity.  Their  pistols,  aimed  at  cans  or  prairie- 
dogs  or  anything,  cracked  as  they  galloped  at 
large.  Their  speeding,  clear-cut  forms  would 
shine  upon  the  bluffs,  and,  descending,  merge  in 
the  dust  their  horses  had  raised.  Yet  all  this 
was  nothing  in  the  vastness  of  the  growing  day. 


268  LIN    Me  LEAN 

Beyond  their  voices  the  rim  of  the  sun  moved 
above  the  violet  hills,  and  Drybone,  amid  the 
quiet,  long,  new  fields  of  radiance,  stood  august 
and  strange. 

Down  along  the  tall,  bare  slant  from  the 
graveyard  the  two  horsemen  were  riding  back. 
They  could  be  seen  across  the  river,  and  the 
horse-racers  grew  curious.  As  more  and  more 
watched,  the  crowd  began  to  speak.  It  was  a 
calf  the  two  were  bringing.  It  was  too  small  for 
a  calf.  It  was  dead.  It  was  a  coyote  they  had 
roped.  See  it  swing !  See  it  fall  on  the  road  ! 

"  It's  a  coffin,. boys  !"  said  one,  shrewd  at  guess- 
ing. 

At  that  the  event  of  last  night  drifted  across 
their  memories,  and  they  wheeled  and  spurred 
their  ponies.  Their  crowding  hoofs  on  the  bridge 
brought  the  swimmers  from  the  waters  below, 
and,  dressing,  they  climbed  quickly  to  the  plain 
and  followed  the  gathering.  By  the  door  already 
were  Jerky  Bill  and  Limber  Jim  and  the  Doughie, 
and  always  more,  dashing  up  with  their  ponies, 
halting  with  a  sharp  scatter  of  gravel  to  hear  and 
comment.  Barker  was  gone,  but  the  important 
coroner  told  his  news.  And  it  amazed  each 
comer,  and  set  him  speaking  and  remembering 
past  things  with  the  others. 

"  Dead  !"  each  one  began. 

"  Her,  does  he  say  ?" 

"Why,  pshaw  !" 

"Why,  Frenchy  said  Doc  had  her  cured  !" 

"  Jack  Saunders  claimed  she  had  rode  to  Box 
Elder  with  Lin  McLean." 

"  Dead  ?     Why,  pshaw  !" 


DESTINY   AT    DRYBONE  269 

"  Seems  Doc  couldn't  swim  her  out." 

"  Couldn't  swim  her  out  ?" 

"  That's  it.     Doc  couldn't  swim  her  out." 

"Well — there's  one  less  of  us." 

"  Sure  !     She  was  one  of  the  boys." 

"  She  grub  -  staked  me  when  I  went  broke  in 
•84." 

"  She  gave  me  fifty  dollars  onced  at  Lander, 
to  buy  a  saddle." 

"  I  run  agin  her  when  she  was  a  biscuit-shooter." 

"  Sidney,  Nebraska.  I  run  again  her  there, 
too." 

"  I  knowed  her  at  Laramie." 

"  Where's  Lin  ?  He  knowed  her  all  the  way 
from  Bear  Creek  to  Cheyenne." 

They  laughed  loudly  at  this. 

"  That's  a  lonesome  coffin,"  said  the  Doughie. 
"  That  the  best  you  could  do  ?" 

"  You'd  say  so  !"  said  Toothpick  Kid. 

"Choices  are  getting  scarce  up  there,"  said 
Chalkeye.  "  We  looked  the  lot  over." 

They  were  arriving  from  their  search  among 
the  old  dug-up  graves  on  the  hill.  Now  they  de- 
scended from  their  ponies,  with  the  box  roped  and 
rattling  between  them.  "Where's  your  hearse, 
Jerky  ?"  asked  Chalkeye. 

"  Have  her  round  in  a  minute,"  said  the  cow- 
boy, and  galloped  away  with  three  or  four  others 
to  help. 

"Turruble  lonesome  coffin,  all  the  same,"  re- 
peated the  Doughie.  And  they  surveyed  the  box 
that  had  once  held  some  soldier. 

"  She  did  like  fixin's,"  said  Limber  Jim. 

"  Fixin's  !"  said  Toothpick  Kid.    "  That's  easy." 


270  LIN   McLEAN 

While  some  six  of  them,  with  Chalkeye,  bore 
the  light,  half-rotted  coffin  into  the  room,  many 
followed  Toothpick  Kid  to  the  post-trader's  store. 
Breaking  in  here,  they  found  men  sleeping  on  the 
counters.  These  had  been  able  to  find  no  other 
beds  in  Drybone,  and  lay  as  they  had  stretched 
themselves  on  entering.  They  sprawled  in  heavy 
slumber,  some  with  not  even  their  hats  taken  off, 
and  some  with  their  boots  against  the  rough  hair 
of  the  next  one.  They  were  quickly  pushed  to- 
gether, few  waking,  and  so  there  was  space  for 
spreading  cloth  and  chintz.  Stuffs  were  unrolled 
and  flung  aside  till  many  folds  and  colors  draped 
the  motionless  sleepers,  and  at  length  a  choice  was 
made.  Unmeasured  yards  of  this  drab  chintz 
were  ripped  off,  money  treble  its  worth  was 
thumped  upon  the  counter,  and  they  returned, 
bearing  it  like  a  streamer  to  the  coffin.  While 
the  noise  of  their  hammers  filled  the  room,  the 
hearse  came  tottering  to  the  door,  pulled  and 
pushed  by  twenty  men.  It  was  an  ambulance  left 
behind  by  the  soldiers,  and  of  the  old-fashioned 
shape,  concave  in  body,  its  top  blown  away  in 
winds  of  long  ago  ;  and  as  they  revolved,  its 
wheels  dished  in  and  out  like  hoops  about  to  fall. 
While  some  made  a  harness  from  ropes,  and 
throwing  the  saddles  off  two  ponies  backed  them 
to  the  vehicle,  the  body  was  put  in  the  coffin,  now 
covered  by  the  chintz.  But  the  laudanum  upon 
the  front  of  her  dress  revolted  those  who  remem- 
bered their  holidays  with  her,  and  turning  the 
woman  upon  her  face,  they  looked  their  last  upon 
her  flashing,  colored  ribbons,  and  nailed  the  lid 
down.  So  they  carried  her  out,  but  the  concave 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  27] 

body  of  the  hearse  was  too  short  for  the  coffin  ; 
the  end  reached  out,  and  it  might  have  fallen. 
But  Limber  Jim,  taking  the  reins,  sat  upon  the 
other  end,  waiting  and  smoking.  For  all  Dry- 
bone  was  making  ready  to  follow  in  some  way. 
They  had  sought  the  husband,  the  chief  mourner. 
He,  however,  still  lay  in  the  grass  of  the  quad- 
rangle, and  despising  him  as  she  had  done,  they 
left  him  to  wake  when  he  should  choose.  Those 
men  who  could  sit  in  their  saddles  rode  escort, 
the  old  friends  nearest,  and  four  held  the  heads  of 
the  frightened  cow-ponies  who  were  to  draw  the 
hearse.  They  had  never  known  harness  before, 
and  they  plunged  with  the  men  who  held  them. 
Behind  the  hearse  the  women  followed  in  a  large 
ranch-wagon,  this  moment  arrived  in  town.  Two 
mares  drew  this,  and  their  foals  gambolled  around 
them.  The  great  flat  -  topped  dray  for  hauling 
poles  came  last,  with  its  four  government  mules. 
The  cow-boys  had  caught  sight  of  it  and  captured 
it.  Rushing  to  the  post  -  trader's,  they  carried 
the  sleeping  men  from  the  counter  and  laid  them 
on  the  dray.  Then,  searching  Drybone  outside 
and  in  for  any  more  incapable  of  following,  they 
brought  them,  and  the  dray  was  piled. 

Limber  Jim  called  for  another  drink  and,  with 
his  cigar  between  his  teeth,  cracked  his  long 
bull-whacker  whip.  The  ponies,  terrified,  sprang 
away,  scattering  the  men  that  held  them,  and  the 
swaying  hearse  leaped  past  the  husband,  over  the 
stones  and  the  many  playing-cards  in  the  grass. 
Masterfully  steered,  it  came  safe  to  an  open  level, 
Krhile  the  throng  cheered  the  unmoved  driver  on 
his  coffin,  his  cigar  between  his  teeth. 


272  LIN  MCLEAN 

"  Stay  with  it,  Jim  !"  they  shouted.  "  You're  a 
king  !" 

A  steep  ditch  lay  across  the  flat  where  he  was 
veering,  abrupt  and  nearly  hidden  ;  but  his  eye 
caught  the  danger  in  time,  and  swinging  from 
it  leftward  so  that  two  wheels  of  the  leaning 
coach  were  in  the  air,  he  faced  the  open  again, 
safe,  as  the  rescue  swooped  down  upon  him.  The 
horsemen  came  at  the  ditch,  a  body  of  daring,  a 
sultry  blast  of  youth.  Wheeling  at  the  brink, 
they  turned,  whirling  their  long  ropes.  The  skil- 
ful nooses  flew,  and  the  ponies,  caught  by  the 
neck  and  foot,  were  dragged  back  to  the  quad- 
rangle and  held  in  line.  So  the  pageant  started  ; 
the  wild  ponies  quivering  but  subdued  by  the 
tightened  ropes,  and  the  coffin  steady  in  the  am- 
bulance beneath  the  driver.  The  escort,  in  their 
fringed  leather  and  broad  hats,  moved  slowly  be- 
side and  behind  it,  many  of  them  swaying,  their 
faces  full  of  health,  and  the  sun,  and  the  strong 
drink.  The  women  followed,  whispering  a  little  ; 
and  behind  them  the  slow  dray  jolted,  with  its 
heaps  of  men  waking  from  the  depths  of  their 
whiskey  and  asking  what  this  was.  So  they  went 
up  the  hill.  When  the  riders  reached  the  tilted 
gate  of  the  graveyard,  they  sprang  off  and  scat- 
tered among  the  hillocks,  stumbling  and  eager. 
They  nodded  to  Barker  and  McLean,  quietly 
waiting  there,  and  began  choosing  among  the 
open,  weather-drifted  graves  from  which  the  sol- 
diers had  been  taken.  Their  figures  went  up  and 
down  the  uneven  ridges,  calling  and  comparing. 

"  Here,"  said  the  Doughie,  "  here's  a  good 
hole." 


DESTINY    AT    DRYBONE  273 

"  Here's  a  deep  one,"  said  another. 

"We've  struck  a  well  here,"  said  some  more. 
"Put  her  in  here." 

The  sand-hills  became  clamorous  with  voices 
until  they  arrived  at  a  choice,  when  some  one 
with  a  spade  quickly  squared  the  rain-washed 
opening.  With  lariats  looping  the  coffin  round, 
they  brought  it  and  were  about  to  lower  it,  when 
Chalkeye,  too  near  the  edge,  fell  in,  and  one  end 
of  the  box  rested  upon  him.  He  could  not  rise 
by  himself,  and  they  pulled  the  ropes  helplessly 
above. 

McLean  spoke  to  Barker.  "  I'd  like  to  stop 
this,"  said  he,  "  but  a  man  might  as  well — " 

"  Might  as  well  stop  a  cloud-burst,"  said  Bar- 
ker. 

"Yes,  Doc.  But  it  feels — it  feels  like  I  was 
looking  at  ten  dozen  Lin  McLeans."  And  see- 
ing them  still  helpless  with  Chalkeye,  he  joined 
them  and  lifted  the  cow-boy  out. 

"  I  think,"  said  Slaghammer,  stepping  forward, 
"  this  should  proceed  no  further  without  some — 
perhaps  some  friend  would  recite  'Now  I  lay 
me?'" 

"  They  don't  use  that  on  funerals,"  said  the 
Doughie. 

"  Will  some  gentleman  give  the  Lord's  Prayer  ?" 
inquired  the  coroner. 

Foreheads  were  knotted ;  trial  mutterings  ran 
among  them  ;  but  some  one  remembered  a  prayer- 
book  in  one  of  the  rooms  in  Drybone,  and  the 
notion  was  hailed.  Four  mounted,  and  raced  to 
bring  it.  They  went  down  the  hill  in  a  flowing 
knot,  shirts  ballooning  and  elbows  flapping,  and 
18 


274  LIN   McLEAN 

so  returned.  But  the  book  was  beyond  them. 
"Take  it,  you  ;  you  take  it,"  each  one  said.  False 
beginnings  were  made,  big  thumbs  pushed  the 
pages  back  and  forth,  until  impatience  conquer- 
ed them.  They  left  the  book  and  lowered  the 
coffin,  helped  again  by  McLean.  The  weight 
sank  slowly,  decently,  steadily,  down  between  the 
banks.  The  sound  that  it  struck  the  bottom 
with  was  a  slight  sound,  the  grating  of  the  load 
upon  the  solid  sand ;  and  a  little  sand  strewed 
from  the  edge  and  fell  on  the  box  at  the  same 
moment.  The  rattle  came  up  from  below,  com- 
pact and  brief,  a  single  jar,  quietly  smiting 
through  the  crowd,  smiting  it  to  silence.  One 
removed  his  hat,  and  then  another,  and  then  all. 
They  stood  eying  each  his  neighbor,  and  shifting 
their  eyes,  looked  away  at  the  great  valley.  Then 
they  filled  in  the  grave,  brought  a  head-board 
from  a  grave  near  by,  and  wrote  the  name  and 
date  upon  it  by  scratching  with  a  stone. 

"She  was  sure  one  of  us,"  said  Chalkeye. 
"  Let's  give  her  the  Lament." 

And  they  followed  his  lead  : 

"  Once  in  the  saddle  I  used  to  go  dashing, 
Once  in  the  saddle  I  used  to  go  gay; 
First  took  to  drinking,  and  then  to  card-playing ; 
Got  shot  in  the  body,  and  now  here  I  lay. 

"  Beat  the  drum  slowly, 
Play  the  fife  lowly, 

Sound  the  dead  march  as  you  bear  me  along. 
Take  me  to  Boot- hill,  and  throw  the  sod  over  me — 
I'm  but  a  poor  cow-boy,  I  know  I  done  wrong." 

When  the  song  was  ended,  they  left  the  grave- 


DESTINY   AT   DRYBONE  275 

yard  quietly  and  went  down  the  hill.  The 
morning  was  growing  warm.  Their  work  waited 
them  across  many  sunny  miles  of  range  and 
plain.  Soon  their  voices  and  themselves  had 
emptied  away  into  the  splendid  vastness  and  si- 
lence, and  they  were  gone — ready  with  all  their 
might  to  live  or  to  die,  to  be  animals  or  heroes, 
as  the  hours  might  bring  them  opportunity.  In 
Drybone's  deserted  quadrangle  the  sun  shone 
down  upon  Lusk  still  sleeping,  and  the  wind 
shook  the  aces  and  kings  in  the  grass. 


IV 

Over  at  Separ,  Jessamine  Buckner  had  no 
more  stockings  of  Billy's  to  mend,  and  much 
time  for  thinking  and  a  change  of  mind.  The 
day  after  that  strange  visit,  when  she  had  been 
told  that  she  had  hurt  a  good  man's  heart  with- 
out reason,  she  took  up  her  work  ;  and  while  her 
hands  despatched  it  her  thoughts  already  accused 
her.  Could  she  have  seen  that  visitor  now,  she 
would  have  thanked  her.  She  looked  at  the 
photograph  on  her  table.  "  Why  did  he  go  away 
so  quickly  ?"  she  sighed.  But  when  young  Billy 
returned  to  his  questions  she  was  buoyant  again, 
and  more  than  a  match  for  him.  He  reached 
the  forbidden  twelfth  time  of  asking  why  Lin 
McLean  did  not  come  back  and  marry  her.  Nor 
did  she  punish  him  as  she  had  threatened.  She 
looked  at  him  confidentially,  and  he  drew  near, 
full  of  hope. 


276  LIN    McLEAN 

"  Billy,  I'll  tell  you  just  why  it  is,"  said  she. 
"  Lin  thinks  I'm  not  a  real  girl." 

"  A — ah,"  drawled  Billy,  backing  from  her  with 
suspicion. 

"  Indeed  that's  what  it  is,  Billy.  If  he  knew  I 
was  a  real  girl — " 

"  A — ah,"  went  the  boy,  entirely  angry.  "  Any- 
body can  tell  you're  a  girl."  And  he  marched 
out,  mystified,  and  nursing  a  sense  of  wrong. 
Nor  did  his  dignity  allow  him  to  reopen  the  sub- 
ject. -  .- 

To-day,  two  miles  out  in  the  sage-brush  by 
himself,  he  was  shooting  jack-rabbits,  but  began 
suddenly  to  run  in  toward  Separ.  A  horseman 
had  passed  him,  and  he  had  loudly  called  ;  but 
the  rider  rode  on,  intent  upon  the  little  distant 
station.  Man  and  horse  were  soon  far  ahead 
of  the  boy,  and  the  man  came  into  town  gal- 
loping. 

No  need  to  fire  the  little  pistol  by  her  window, 
as  he  had  once  thought  to  do  !  She  was  outside 
before  he  could  leap  to  the  ground.  And  as  he 
held  her,  she  could  only  laugh,  and  cry,  and  say 
"  Forgive  me  !  Oh,  why  have  you  been  so  long  ?" 
She  took  him  back  to  the  room  where  his  picture 
was,  and  made  him  sit,  and  sat  herself  close. 
"What  is  it?"  she  asked  him.  For  through  the 
love  she  read  something  else  in  his  serious  face. 
So  then  he  told  her  how  nothing  was  wrong ; 
and  as  she  listened  to  all  that  he  had  to  tell,  she, 
too,  grew  serious,  and  held  very  close  to  him. 
"  Dear,  dear  neighbor  !"  she  said. 

As  they  sat  so,  happy  with  deepening  happi- 
ness, but  not  gay  yet,  young  Billy  burst  open 


DESTINY   AT   DRYBONE  277 

the  door.     "There!"  he  cried.      "I  knowed  Lin 
knowed  you  were  a  girl !" 

Thus  did  Billy  also  have  his  wish.  For  had  he 
not  told  Jessamine  that  he  liked  her,  and  urged 
her  to  come  and  live  with  him  and  Lin?  That 
cabin  on  Box  Elder  became  a  home  in  truth, 
with  a  woman  inside  taking  the  only  care  of  Mr. 
McLean  that  he  had  known  since  his  childhood  : 
though  singularly  enough  he  has  an  impression 
that  it  is  he  who  takes  care  of  Jessamine ! 


IN  THE  AFTER-DAYS 

THE  black  pines  stand  high  up  the  hills, 
The  white  snow  sifts  their  columns  deep, 

While  through  the  canon's  riven  cleft. 

From  there,  beyond,  the  rose  clouds  sweep. 

Serene  above  their  paling  shapes 
One  star  hath  wakened  in  the  sky, 

And  here  in  the  gray  world  below 
Over  the  sage  the  wind  blows  by  ; 

Rides  through  the  cotton-woods'  ghost-ranks, 

And  hums  aloft  a  sturdy  tune 
Among  the  river's  tawny  bluffs, 

Untenanted  as  is  the  moon. 

Far  'neath  the  huge  invading  dusk 

Comes  Silence  awful  through  the  plain  ; 

But  yonder  horseman's  heart  is  gay, 
And  he  goes  singing  might  and  main. 


THE    END 


BY  CAPTAIN  CHARLES  KING 


CAMPAIGNING  WITH  CROOK,  AND  STORIES  OF 
ARMY  LIFE.     Illustrated.     Post  8vo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

A  WAR-TIME  WOOING.     A  Story.     Illustrated  by 
R.  F.  ZOGBAUM.     Post  8vo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 

BETWEEN  THE  LINES.    A  Story  of  the  War.    Illus- 
trated by  GILBERT  GAUL.    Post  8vo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

CADET  DAYS.     A  Story  of  West  Point.     Illustrated. 

Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 

Captain  King's  stories  of  army  life  are  so  brilliant  and  intense, 
they  have  such  a  ring  of  true  experience,  and  his  characters  are  so 
lifelike  and  vivid  that  the  announcement  of  a  new  one  is  always 
received  with  pleasure. — New  Haven  Palladium. 

In  all  of  Captain  King's  stories  the  author  holds  to  lofty  ideals 
of  manhood  and  womanhood,  and  inculcates  the  lessons  of  honor, 
generosity,  courage,  and  self-control. — Literary  World,  Boston. 

A  romance  by  Captain  King  is  always  a  pleasure,  because  he  has 
so  complete  a  mastery  of  the  subjects  with  which  he  deals.  .  .  . 
Captain  King  has  few" rivals  in  his  domain. — Epoch,  N.  Y. 

All  Captain  King's  stories  are  full  of  spirit  and  with  the  true  ring- 
about  them. — Philadelphia  Item. 

In  the  delineation  of  war  scenes  Captain  King's  style  is  crisp  and 
vigorous,  inspiring  in  the  breast  of  the  reader  a  thrill  of  genuine 
patriotic  fervor. — Boston  Commomoealth. 

Captain  King  is  almost  without  a  rival  in  the  field  he  has  chosen. 
.  .  .  His  style  is  at  once  vigorous  and  sentimental  in  the  best  sense 
of  that  word,  so  that  his  novels  are  pleasing  to  young  men  as  well 
as  young  women. — Pittsburgh  Bulletin. 

It  is  good  to  think  that  there  is  at  least  one  man  who  believes 
that  all  the  spirit  of  romance  and  chivalry  has  not  yet  died  out  of 
the  world,  and  that  there  are  as  brave  and  honest  hearts  to-day  as 
there  were  in  the  days  of  the  knights  and  paladins. — Philadelphia 
Record. 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 

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14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


LOAN  DEPT. 


This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

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Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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